Crash and Burn
by purplepagoda
Summary: Tony, and Ziva finally agree on something. Too bad it's late at night, at a bar, and no one is around to talk them out of their agreement.
1. Alarm Bells

He's sitting next to her in a bar. He watches her carefully, as she downs another shot. She notices him staring at her.

"What?" she questions defensively.

"Something is bothering you."

"Why do you think that?"

"You don't usually drink this much. You don't usually accept my invitation to go out for drinks."

"What do I have to lose?"

"Ziva, tell me what's bothering you."

"I have been inside my head too much lately."

"That bothers you?"

"The things that I have been thinking about, they bother me."

"Like what?"

"I keep having a recurring dream."

"About what?"

"It does not matter."

"It does, tell me."

"I can't."

"Ziva I'm your partner. I know just about everything there is to know about you."

"I know."

"So what's that look for?"

"I keep dreaming about a baby," she admits, as she motions for the bartender to bring her another drink.

"Why do you think that is?"

"Because my subconscious hates me."

"What is your subconscious telling you?"

She looks at him, and then at her drink. She swallows the shot, and slams the glass on the counter. She focuses on him.

"I cannot explain why, or where the thought is coming from, but I think I want a baby," she admits.

He looks into her dark eyes. He sees something he hadn't noticed before. "Ok," he answers.

"Ok? You are not going to ask me why? You are not going to ask me how?"

"If you truly want a baby, you'll have one."

"With who? Who am I going to have a baby with?"

"You don't have to have a person."

"Babies do not just fall from the heavens."

"What would you like me to say here?"

"Talk me out of it."

"Maybe I don't want to."

"I can't have a baby. Not by myself. There is no candidate to have one with."

"Do you want the whole thing, or do you just want a baby?"

"I do not know."

"So just pick some random guy up at the bar, and..." he begins.

She cuts him off, "I do not want the father of my child to be some random person. With my luck I would chose a serial killer, or worse, a politician."

"Ziva do you have someone in mind?"

"No," she lies.

"Why don't we have a baby?"

"Together?" she raises an eyebrow.

"I'm five drinks in, and it sounds pretty reasonable to me, right now."

"You do not like children," she reminds him.

"It's different when it's your child," he points out as he motions for the bartender to bring him another drink.

"We cannot just have a baby together. It is not that simple."

"Why can't it be? You would like to have a child, I would like to have a child..."

She cuts him off, "You would like a child, someday."

"I'm not getting any younger, and if I keep waiting for the perfect timing, it will never happen."

"You're serious?"

"Yes," he nods.

"Why are you agreeing to this?"

"Maybe it's the booze, but it makes sense. You want a child, I want a child, so we'll have one together. Do you have a better candidate? You should have a child with someone who you trust. Someone who you'd trust your life with, your child's life with."

"I hate when I can't win an argument," she admits.

"And why is that?"

"Because you make a very good point."

"So let's have some more drinks, and then go make a baby."

"Tonight?"

"There is not time like the present," he points out.

The bartender brings them several more drinks. An hour and a half later they leave the bar.


	2. Wake Up Call

The alarm clock blares in his ear. _When did his alarm clock get so loud? _He lies on his chest, and reaches for the alarm clock with his right hand. He feels nothing but air.

"Turn it off," someone growls.

He reaches with his left hand, and encounters the alarm clock. He smacks it, but it doesn't stop. He picks it up, and chucks it across the room. It crashes against a wall. He opens his eyes, and looks at the pieces of alarm clock on the floor.

He makes the shocking realization that he is not in his apartment. He rolls onto his side. He finds a beautiful Israeli woman lying next to him. The side of her face is pressed up against her pillow. The sheet covers her halfway. Her bare back lies exposed.

He slides out of bed, and rummages through the pile of clothing, until he finds his boxers. He pulls them on, and goes into the bathroom. He opens the medicine cabinet, and swallows a couple of aspirin to quell his splitting headache. He returns to the bedroom.

"Ziva," he says quietly, but firmly, "You need to wake up."

"Tony, go away, I'm tired."

"Ziva we have to be at work in less than an hour."

Her eyes suddenly pop open. She looks at him. He stands next to the bed, in his boxers. She pulls the sheet around her, and sits up. She runs her fingers through her hair, and massages her throbbing head for a moment.

"Why are you in my bedroom?"

"I think we drank too much last night," he answers.

"Obviously."

"What do you remember about last night?" he questions.

"I remember being at the bar with you."

"Do you remember what we were talking about?"

"No," she admits.

"I do."

"I do not like that look," she tells him.

"I think that we may be in serious trouble."

"Why?"

"You told me that you wanted a baby."

"I did?"

"Yes," he nods.

"Why?"

"Why did you agree to have one with me?"

"I agreed to have a baby with you?"

"Yes."

"I do not think so," she argues.

"I hope that you're on the pill."

"Why?"

"Because I remember uttering the sentence, 'Let's have some more drinks, and then go make a baby,'. Do you remember that?"

"No," she shakes her head, her pupils dilating.

"This is bad."

"We still have to go to work," she reminds him.

"Could this day get any worse?"

"I'm sure that it will," she answers.

An hour later they arrive at NCIS. Gibbs is waiting on them.

"You're late," he scolds.

"Isn't that what you were wearing yesterday?" McGee questions Tony.

Tony gives him a death glare, "Don't ask."

Gibbs tosses Tony a bottle of aspirin. "Thanks boss."

"Ziva why were you late?" Gibbs inquires.

"My alarm clock broke."

"Let's roll. We've got a dead petty officer in Alexandria."

They all grab their gear and head for the elevator.

Hours later Ziva finds herself in Abby's lab.

"Do you have anything?" Ziva questions as massages her temples.

"For a hangover?" Abby questions without missing a beat.

"I've had worse," she lies.

"I'm assuming that you went out with Tony last night?"

"Yes."

"Did you two..." Abby locks eyes with Ziva. Ziva doesn't look away fast enough.

"You did. Didn't you?" Abby queries.

"Have you ever woken up after a night out, and asked yourself, how could this get any worse?"

"Of course."

"With each minute my day _has _gotten worse."

"You woke up with a hangover, then what?"

"Then I saw Tony."

"Do you actually remember doing it?"

"No I do not remember doing it."

"Doing what?" Gibbs asks as he enters the room.

"Locking my door this morning," Ziva lies.

"Oh."

"Gibbs I got a match on the fingerprint. It belongs to the petty officer's wife."

"That's no surprise Abby, she lives there."

"It was in his blood. Didn't you say that she has been out of town?" Abby replies.

"Good work Abby," he hands her a caf-pow.

"Ziva come with me," he demands.

"Coming," she answers.

She follows him onto the elevator. The doors close, and the elevator begins moving. He presses a button, and the elevator stops. He turns to face her, in order to read her expression.

"Is there something going on that I should know about?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Nothing to report."

"So you didn't go out with Tony last night?"

"I did," she reveals.

"Did you go home with him?"

"No, absolutely not."

"Good," he turns the elevator back on.

_He went home with me, _she thinks to herself.


	3. Held Hostage

Three weeks later: Ziva stops off in Abby's lab before going to the squad room. She finds Abby sitting in her office.

"It's quiet in here," Ziva begins.

"I'm not awake yet," she answers, "Do you need something?"

"A favor."

"What do you need?"

"You are not going to like it."

"Then don't tell me."

"I need you to test this," she holds out a vial of blood.

"Ok."

"It's not for a case."

"Whose blood?"

"Mine," she admits.

"Oh, I see. I'll email you the results before the end of the day."

"Thank you."

"Am I looking for something specific?"

"You'll know if you find it," Ziva replies.

"Ok," Abby nods in agreement.

She leaves the lab, and makes her way to the elevator. When the doors open she steps inside, and finds Tony waiting on her. The doors close, and he stops the elevator seconds after it sets into motion.

"Any news?"

"Not yet."

"Did you take a test?"

"I took three, they were all inconclusive."

"Ok," he turns the elevator back on.

"What would you do if they weren't?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, if we come to it."

"I think I would know, don't you?"

"Yeah, you would get a gut feeling," he jokes.

"I don't think we have anything to worry about," she replies.

They exit the elevator, and head into the squad room. They each take seats at their desks, and wait on Gibbs.

"You look anxious," McGee observes.

"Me? I'm fine," Ziva lies.

"Are you sure?" McGee questions.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, "You just seem kind of tense."

"I haven't had any caffeine yet, this morning."

"Here's our supplier now," Tony smiles as Gibbs gets off the elevator.

He stops at Ziva's desk, and places the drink carrier on her desk. He hands her a cup. He then hands Tony, and Tim their cups. Gibbs grabs the last cup, and tosses the carrier in the garbage.

"Better Agent David?" Gibbs questions Ziva as she sips the warm beverage.

She nods.

"So we're all ready to get to work now?" he inquires.

"We don't have a case yet," Tim points out.

Gibbs points to his phone. It rings. He smirks, and then answers it.

"Gibbs. Yes I know. Thanks for the reminder Leon," he hangs up in annoyance.

"What did the director want?"

"To remind me that we have an in service today, on public relations."

"Why are we just hearing about it?" Tim queries.

"Because we're not going," Tony answers.

"When is it?"

"At 0830. Don't worry we'll have a case by then."

0825: Ziva filters through old emails, deleting the unimportant ones. Tony digs through his drawers. Tim checks his facebook. Gibbs drums on his desk with his thumbs.

"Ok. Go to archives. Pick a cold case, anyone that you want, and then come back," he insists.

The three team members run to the elevator.

"Why don't the two of you go to archives, I'll see if Abby has anything."

"I doubt that she will," Tony argues.

"It couldn't hurt to check," Tim rebutts.

Ziva gets off the elevator at Abby's lab. Abby stands in front of the computer.

"Do you have anything for me?" Ziva questions.

"Slow morning?"

"Slower than usual," Ziva admits.

"Sit," Abby demands.

Ziva crosses her arms, and stares at the back of Abby's head. Abby spins around.

"Sit," she says sharply, pointing to the stool.

Ziva takes a seat. "Are you taking me hostage?"

"I ran your test."

"And?"

"I've already erased the results, and disposed of the sample."

"Did you learn anything useful?"

"I did."

"What did you learn?"

"That you need to tell me what happened."

"When?"

"Three weeks ago."

"Tell me what you know," Ziva counters.

"I know everything. I know that three weeks ago you did something that you're worried about."

"I'm fine? Right?"

"Yes, you're fine. Disease free."

"Good."

"But you're not off the hook."

"What do you want to know, Abby?"

"I already know everything that I need to know. You're the one who has to pay the piper. I really thought that you knew better."

"Knew better, than what?"

"You used to be a Mossad officer. I'm sure that avoiding this had to be part of your training."

"Avoiding death?"

Abby scowls, "Not death. The thing that can happen after red light behavior."

"Oh," she nods in understanding.

"But it isn't potential."

"What is it then?"

"With the HCG levels I detected in your blood, the clinical standards for a positive, have been more than met."

"So..."

"It's not a potential, it's a definite."

"You're positive?" Ziva wonders.

"No, you are," Abby retorts. She points at Ziva, and smiles.


	4. Beautiful Mess

"Gibbs is not going to like this. He isn't standing behind me, is he?"

"No. I'll keep an eye on the door, so we can discuss this."

"Why? Why would you want to discuss this?"

"I don't understand how it happened."

"The physics, or the science..."

"I know how that happens."

"So what is it, that you want to know?"

"You are an intelligent woman how did you let one slip by?"

"Abby!"

"It's a serious question."

"I was drunk."

"I assume that you have had drunk sex before."

"I have."

"With your partner?"

"Only the once."

"That resulted in this?"

"Yes."

"How did you two get from the bar, to your apartment?"

"I don't remember."

"So what do you remember?"

"The conversation that we had before we left the bar."

"What did you talk about with him?"

"I told him that I wanted a baby. I don't know why I said that, I do not know where it came from. All I know is that he agreed."

"That you wanted a baby?"

"That I should have one."

"With him?"

"It was his idea. We had both had a lot to drink, it sounded reasonable at the time."

"But you agreed?"

"We had a few more drinks, and then we left."

"Ziva you're blowing my mind right now. So subconsciously you wanted this?"

"I liked the idea, but... the reality..."

"You didn't think that he would agree?"

"I didn't ask. He volunteered."

"Next time wait until you're sober," Abby suggests.

"What am I supposed to do now?"

"You've got to tell Tony."

"I know."

"You're having second thoughts?"

Ziva nods.

"Don't you think it's a little late, now?"

"Obviously."

"You've got to tell Gibbs too. If he finds out that you're hiding this... he'll kill you."

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"No you're not. That's in your head."

Ziva takes a deep breath, "You're right. I'm fine."

"Are you really?"

"Physically."

Ziva's phone rings. "David," she answers, "Yes, I'm on my way."

"Gibbs?"

Ziva nods.

Hours later they return from the scene, covered in mud.

"All of you, go home and shower."

"This doesn't bother me," Ziva comments.

"Me neither," Tony adds.

"You stink, all of you, go home and shower. It's late, I'll see you all in the morning."

None of them make eye contact.

"Now!" he demands.

They scatter. In the parking lot Ziva texts Tony. They both head home to shower.

An hour later he arrives at her apartment. He knocks on the door.

"It's unlocked," she yells.

He opens the door, and steps in. He closes the door behind him.

"I could be a serial killer," he jokes.

"I was expecting you," she points out.

"Right," he nods.

"I need to know something."

"What's that?"

"Why did you agree with me, at that bar?"

"I thought that it's what you wanted."

"So?"

"I never thought that it would really happen. I never thought that you would go along with it."

"But I did."

"I should have thought about it. It was not a good idea."

"A mistake?"

"We jumped into something that I don't think we're ready to deal with."

"I agree."

"You do?"

"Of course."

"Why is it that we can agree on something as big, and life altering as this, but we fight over where to eat lunch?"

"I don't know."

"I never should have let what happened, happen. I think that it has created an obstacle, that we didn't need to deal with. Neither of us are ready to have a child."

She looks away from him. She hesitates, "No, we're not."

He keeps his eyes on her. "Why did you look away? Why won't you look at me?"

She looks up at him, "I am tired. I am having a hard time focusing today," she admits.

"Is there a reason? Has this been bothering you?"

"We had sex."

"I know."

"And we haven't talked about it, since it happened."

"What is there to talk about?"

"Nothing," she looks away again.


	5. Let Me In

"You're avoiding eye contact, because you don't want me to know if you're lying," he accuses.

"I thought that this would not be a big deal."

"Is it? I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"Tony..."

"Yes?"

"Sex always complicates things."

"I know."

"It makes you question things, that you never questioned before. It makes you wonder if you really stand as firmly in your beliefs as you think that you do."

"What are you questioning right now? I can see the back in forth going on in your head."

"It's nothing," she lies.

"Ziva what is going on? What is it that you're not telling me? We had sex, but we're not having a baby. Why are you so conflicted?"

Her eyes locks on his. She tries to look away, but can't. "I don't want to do this. I don't want things to be this way," she replies softly.

"Do what?"

She shakes her head, "Nothing."

"Ziva are you afraid that you have feelings for me?"

"No. That is the least of my fears right now."

"So what then? Do you remember what happened?"

"It doesn't matter if I remember or not."

"Why not?"

"Because I know that it did."

"There is plausible deniability here. Let's look at the facts. We left the bar together. We woke up together, naked, but there is no proof that we had sex. All we have is our minds jumping to conclusions."

"There is no way to deny it. You can if you want, but I can't. I'd like to. I wish that I could."

"You have proof?"

"More proof than I'd like to."

"Photographic evidence?"

"Much more than that."

"Video?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"A gut feeling?"

"Something along those lines."

"Like what?"

"What do you think the odds are of getting pregnant after a one-night stand with someone from a bar?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, "I guess it depends."

"The odds don't really matter, though do they?"

"I..." he chooses not to answer.

"You said that you wanted a child someday, but you don't want one right now."

"I don't really know. What I want changes from minute to minute."

"A child is something that you cannot take back."

"I know."

"Why did we think that it would be a good idea to have a child together? You don't really want a child, not with me."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I am your partner. This arrangement is unnatural. It is not supposed to work this way."

"But it did, didn't it?"

"What?"

"This is how it worked out, didn't it?"

"I am not going to answer that."

"Why not?"

"If I told you that I was pregnant, right now, what would you say?"

"Are you telling me that?"

"I am asking you, hypothetically, what would you say?"

"I would tell you that this was the dumbest idea we have ever had..."

She cuts him off, "I knew it!" She jumps up out of her seat.

"Sit down, let me finish." He pauses and waits for her to return to her seat, "It is probably the dumbest idea that we've ever had, but it will probably turn out to be the best wrong turn we've ever taken. Most of the time I don't know what I want. I don't know if I'm ready to be committed to one person for the rest of my life. I don't know if I'm going to have a cheeseburger, or pasta for dinner. I don't know if I'm ever going to have the right answers. What I do know is that, I trust you, more than I trust anyone else. I trust your judgment more than I trust my own. If you tell me that you're pregnant, that we're going to have a baby, then I promise that we will figure out how to make this work. My whole life, there has been one thing that I am sure of, and that is, that when I have a child, I will do everything humanly possible to keep him, or her from having the same childhood I did. I would give that child everything I could. I would be there, and I would make sure that no matter how bad things got between his mother, and I, we would always love him. Bottom line, even if I wasn't with his mother, even if we couldn't stand each other, he would always have two parents. Two parents who would put him first, who would lay down their life for him."

Ziva wipes away tears, "That's good to know."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"So what were you going to tell me?"

"I am not sure that I know how to figure this out."

"I know."

"I have no idea how I feel, or how I am supposed to feel, right now."

"But?"

"But nothing," she lies.

"Why is it so hard for you? Why can't you just open up? Just once, can't you just tell me what you're feeling?"

"To be honest, I don't know what I am feeling right now."

"You always know what you're feeling."

"I do not feel in control of my emotions right now."

"That's ok, just open up."

"You know that it is not that easy for me."

"You don't like feeling vulnerable. I get that, but who in this world, do you trust more than me?"

"No one," she admits.

"Exactly. Just tell me, what is it that you're feeling, right now?"

"I guess, I am a little scared."

"Of what?"

"The things that I cannot control. The thought that I may lose your friendship because of something stupid that I said, that we did."

"I'm not going anywhere. You haven't scared me off yet, I don't think that it's possible."

"That is good to know."

"Isn't obvious that I no longer know how to function without you?"

"I know that you do not do very well without me."

"So are you going to tell me, or not?"


	6. Two Pink Lines

"Tell you what?"

"The truth, about what you know."

"I am not sure that I can."

"Try."

"Ok."

"Go ahead."

"Would you be angry if I told you that Abby knows about the situation?"

"What situation? Is there a situation?"

"She knows everything."

"Why? She can't lie to Gibbs."

"I didn't ask her to lie, just with hold the truth."

"You know, she's his favorite for a reason."

"Everyone is going to know, sooner, or later."

"What do you mean?"

"Abby did a blood test."

"On your blood?"

"Yes."

"What did she find out?"

"That blood is better than urine."

"I know. What did she find out? Was it positive, or negative? You said earlier you had a gut feeling, right?"

"Are gut feelings, always right?"

"No."

"Exactly."

"Exactly? Are you going to tell me or not? Is it yes, or is it no? Are you pregnant, or not?"

"I am."

"You are? Are you sure?"

"Tony I am sure. I am pregnant."

"What about the inconclusive pee sticks?"

"I went to take the trash out when I got home, they are now all little plus signs."

"So you're definitely pregnant?"

"Yes," she nods.

"Ok."

"I don't know what that means for us, or our jobs. When Gibbs finds out he'll probably kill us. If we are lucky enough to escape his wrath Vance will have our badges."

"It doesn't matter."

"Are you sure about that?"

"There is no one else I'd rather have a child with."

"I'm sure that there are many, much more qualified candidates, you know, ones that aren't formerly assassins, and actually know how to take care of a child."

"Maybe, but none of them are you."

"You act as if you knew this would happen."

"I didn't, but I'm surprisingly, unsurprised."

"Why is that?"

"I had a gut feeling."

"Oh."

Tony sits on the couch next to her. She breaks eye contact with him, and instead focuses on the coffee table sitting in front of her. He watches her closely. Her hair is still wet from her shower. She's wearing a grey NCIS t-shirt, and a matching pair of sweat pants. This was not the Ziva David he was used to. She was the closest thing to a superhero he'd ever seen.

She was shaken. Even her posture was off. Usually she sat up, as straight as a board. This picture was much different. She leans forward. Her elbows rest on her knees. She supports her head on the palms of her hands. She fidgets as he watches her. She refuses to look at him. He had never seen her like this before. This Ziva, she's different. She seems broken. She seems vulnerable, and weak. She seems scared.

Finally he tries to remedy the situation. He speaks softly, "Ziva."

She is brought back to reality. She sits up, and turns her head to look at him. She doesn't answer with her mouth, but her eyes ask, _'What?'. _Unsure of what to do, he pulls her towards him, into a hug. She doesn't attempt to resist. Instead, she rests her head on his shoulder. She hugs him back.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes.

"Rule number six," he recites.

"The rules aren't going to help us here," she points out.

He places his hand on the back of her head. "I know," he whispers, "What I'm curious about, is why you're sorry."

"I never should have told you."

"About being pregnant?"

"About wanting a baby. I know that you did not want this."

"Zi, don't be sorry. "

"I feel like I have ruined everything."

"What have you ruined?"

"Don't you think a baby is going to cramp your style?"

He lets go. He locks eyes with her, "I'm not worried about that. That isn't important."

"Tony! We are having a baby," she rants, on the verge of tears.

"I know, and I know that you're scared, and it's ok. I know that you might feel like the whole world is crashing down on you, but this is not the end of the world."

"I..." tears begin rolling down her cheeks.

He wipes the tears from her cheeks, "Why are you crying?"

"I don't know," she shrugs, "I feel like a woman on a lifetime movie."

"You finally started watching lifetime?"

"That wasn't the point."

"It's ok if you want to cry."

"I don't want to cry. I want not to cry, but..."

"Did you ever consider the possibility that it could be related to the surge of hormones that your body is experiencing right now?"

"No."

"It probably is."

"So what are we going to do?"

"Do? What do you mean?"

She furrows her brow.

"I guess that I just assumed if you told me that..."

"That what?"

"I should not assume," he answers.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Make your own decision."

"What if you don't like it?"

"You're the one who has to live with it," he answers.


	7. Playing For Keeps

"I have already decided."

"Ok," he nods.

"Do you want to know what I have decided?"

"If you want me to know," he answers.

She looks down, she stares at Tony's hand, which is on her leg. He immediately removes it. She looks back up. He tries to read the answer from her eyes, before she begins to speak.

"Because of what we do, having a baby, is not really a good idea. Working for NCIS is not, the ideal job for a parent. Chasing down criminals, and being shot at is not, a good idea for someone who is pregnant. It is dangerous, and it is stupid."

"It is," he agrees.

"Rationally I know all of this."

"But the heart wants what the heart wants," he adds.

She nods. She looks at him for a signal, to continue. He squeezes her hand. She takes a deep breath. She looks away for a moment, searching for courage, and then looks at him, once again.

"I want to keep it," she answers.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she nods.

"And your decision has not been influenced by anything, but what you want."

"It has not."

"You're one hundred percent sure that this is what you want?"

"I'm not going to change my mind."

"Good?"

"Good?"

"I didn't want to influence your decision, but I was hoping that you would say that," he admits.

"You want me to keep it?"

"Yes, as unorthodox, and completely crazy as it is, yes. I hope to live to see the birth."

"Why would you say something like that?"

"I just mean, I hope that Gibbs doesn't kill me when he finds out."

"Oh."

"Where do we go from here?"

"I don't know," she shrugs, "I have never done this before."

"Neither have I."

"You donated your sperm to a sperm bank."

"That is different."

"How?"

"I did not sleep with anyone."

"I know that, but..."

He cuts her off, "I am not going to say what I'd like to say right now. I do not want you to accuse me of lying, or telling you, just because of the situation that we're in."

"Tell me, what?"

"The truth."

"About what?"

"Have I ever told you about the dream I had after the first time I met you?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"I didn't think that it meant anything, really. I didn't think that it mattered, because I thought that you were going to go back to Israel."

"What did you dream?"

"In the dream we were at the park."

"Why were we at the park?"

"Questions at the end," he warns.

"Fair enough."

_He sits on the park bench next to her. He watches her, as her eyes remain fixated on something. He follows her line of vision. A little boy stares back at them. He has dark, wavy hair, and big brown eyes. His backwards baseball cap moves around on his head as he runs towards them. He stops in front of them. Tony stares at the little boy who wears camo cargo pants, and a gray t-shirt that says NCIS on the front. He locks eyes with Tony._

_"Daddy?"_

_"Yeah buddy."_

_"Do you have your knife? I need to get this splinter out of my finger."_

_Ziva smiles, "Noah what is rule number nine?"_

_"Never go anywhere without a knife," he recites._

_Ziva pulls a pocket knife out of her pocket. "Mommy! You have my knife."_

_"You left it on the table, I thought that you would want it, so I grabbed it before I left," she offers the knife to him. _

_"Do you want me to help you get it out?" Tony queries._

_"No offense dad, but mommy does it better."_

"You dreamed that we had a son?"

"Yes," he nods.

"Interesting."

"I guess somehow, subconsciously I always knew. It sounds ridiculous, but I guess I always knew that you would be the mother of my child."

"Did you hit your head?"

"I mean it."

"You're being ridiculous. No one would ever want me to be the mother of their child. I have no maternal instincts."

"You do."

"It's getting late," she points out, feeling him getting too close.

"I'll get going."

"See you in the morning."

"See you in the morning," he agrees.

He leaves the apartment, and she locks the door behind him. She brushes her teeth, and heads to bed. She lies in her bed for hours, unable to sleep. In the dark she stares up at the ceiling. Suddenly she feels overwhelmingly alone. She rolls over, and finds her bed empty. She finds herself a little disappointed. Her phone vibrates on the nightstand beside her. She flips open the phone. _Go to sleep, _Tony writes. She closes the phone, and lies it aside. She closes her eyes, and begs for sleep to come. The last thing she sees before falling asleep in the simulated image of her child with DiNozzo, that McGee had come up with.


	8. Sickness

She rolls onto her side, and looks at the clock. 4:15, she hadn't been up this early, in a long time. She groans as she gets out of bed.

"You have got to be kidding me," she says to herself as she blazes a trail to the bathroom. She manages to pull her hair back in a pony tail before reaching her final destination. She hits her knees. Her head hovers above the toilet bowl. She lurches forward, and a bitter, acidic taste rises in her throat. She feels herself trying to fight the inevitable. Her lips part, and the emesis violently flows into the toilet bowl.

0710

The phone in the pocket of her sweat pants beeps at her. She opens her eyes, and pulls the phone out of her pocket. She reads the text message. _Where are you, you're late?_

Tony flips open his phone, and finds a picture message from Ziva. She writes, _Next time I see you, I'm probably going to kill you._ He scrolls down to the picture. He finds her hugging her toilet bowl.

"DiNozzo, where is David?"

"I..." before he can come up with an excuse Gibb's phone rings.

"Gibbs. Where are you? Why? Oh, I see. No, stay home. I'll see you tomorrow," he hangs up.

"Ziva?" Tim questions.

"Yes, she's sick," Gibbs reveals.

"Ziva? Ziva never gets sick," Tim remarks.

"Food poisoning," Gibbs answers.

"Eww," Tim grimaces.

1230

"DiNozzo, why don't you go check on your partner? Make sure that she's still alive."

"Yes, boss," Tony quickly jumps up from his desk. He hops on the elevator.

1300

He knocks on the door, but no one responds. He tests the handle, and finds that it is unlocked. He twists the knob, and pushes the door open.

"Can I come in?" he calls out.

"On the couch," she manages to respond.

He walks over to her, and sits a bag on the coffee table. He empties the contents of the bag.

"Where is your gun?" he jokes.

"I am too weak to kill you right now. I spent four hours in the bathroom, there is nothing left in there."

"Well, there's one thing."

"I hope that this is a one time thing."

"I brought you ginger ale, and crackers to settle your stomach."

"I don't want anything."

"You've got to drink something."

"No."

"Ziva," he hands her a bottle of ginger ale, "drink it."

"It's just going to come back up," she argues.

"You don't know that."

"How long did you spend vomiting this morning?"

"I didn't."

"Four hours, I spent four hours with my head in the toilet."

"Are you feeling any better now?"

"Not really."

"Why are you so cranky?"

"I woke up at a quarter after four."

"I suppose that is my fault."

"I can't entirely blame you."

"It takes two to make a baby."

"You should get back to work."

"Are you coming to work tomorrow?"

"If I can keep my head out of the toilet bowl long enough."

"I have a feeling that the next several months promise to be the least pleasant of my life."

"I would say that is probably an accurate statement."

"Feel better, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ok," she agrees.

She lies motionless on the couch. She lies on her side. He hands her the remote control.

"I would say I'm sorry..." he begins.

"But you're not," she finishes.

"There is a rule against it," he clarifies.

"Go back to work."

"Ok," he agrees.

"Bye," she semi-waves as he walks out the door.

1945- The lamp next to the bed is still on. The covers are on the floor. She wears a baggy Navy t-shirt. A book lies in the bed next to her. She snores loudly. She sleeps so soundly that she doesn't hear Tony sneak in. He kisses her forehead.

"Sleep tight," he muses as he turns off her lamp. He sits a bottle of water, and a package of crackers on the stand next to her. He makes sure to lock her apartment door on his way out.

0500

She doesn't even open her eyes when she climbs out of bed. She makes her way to the bathroom, in the dark, with her eyes closed. In this situation the only advantage of being a trained Mossad officer provided, was that she didn't have to open her eyes. She lowers herself to the ground. She lurches forward with force equal to that of a roller coaster. After half an hour with her head in the toilet she is able to get up. She flips on the light in the bathroom, and swishes with mouth wash. She brushes her teeth, and flosses. She finds a packaged toothbrush on the bathroom counter with a post-it note. _Thought you could probably use this._ She turns on the shower, and steps in.

When she finishes in the shower she towels off, and then goes to dry her hair. She gets dressed, and grabs her new toothbrush on her way out.

0658

She slips off the elevator, and makes her way to her desk. She carefully lowers herself into her chair. Tony looks at his watch, and then at her.

"Cutting it close," he comments.

She shoots him a death glare.

"Feeling any better?" Tim questions.

"A little," she answers in a half-truth. She wasn't feeling any better, she was just more determined to control the vomiting.

"Grab your gear," Gibbs announces as he enters the squad room.

0815

They're on the interstate when she smacks the side of his head with a rolled up magazine.

"Is that necessary?" he questions, looking in the rearview.

"Pull over!" she insists.

He pulls onto the shoulder. She jumps out of the car. She launches herself towards the edge of the woods. They watch as she bends over. Her hands press against her knees. She vomits, and then takes a few moments to regain her composure. Before she knows it Tim is standing beside her, offering her a bottle of water. She takes it, and begins to rinse out her mouth.

"Thanks McGee."

He returns to the car, and she follows soon after. She returns to her designated seat in the back.

"Tony switch Ziva places," Gibbs barks.

"I think that we're even. Her driving makes me sick, and now, for once my driving made her sick."

"Not a competition, let her drive."

He nods, "Yes boss," he gets out of the car. Ziva switches him places.


	9. Late

The shock of the situation eventually begins to wear off. Tony finds himself spending more and more time with Ziva. As weeks pass they grow closer. It's late, he's sitting on her couch. The credits of the movie they're watching begins to roll. Her legs shift. They swing off his lap, onto the floor.

"I should get going," he admits.

"Stay," she offers.

"No offense, but your couch isn't all that comfortable."

"I didn't say that you had to sleep on the couch."

"Are you being serious?"

"Yes," she nods as she stands up.

"Ziva?"

"Yes?"

"Sit back down please," he insists.

She sits back down on the couch. She looks at him, waiting for him to begin.

"We've been avoiding this long enough."

"Avoiding this conversation, but I think that it's about time."

"Why?"

He looks at her stomach for a moment. "Oh, right," she nods.

"Before this baby is born, we need to have this discussion."

"We have plenty of time."

"I know."

"What do we need to discuss?"

"I want to know where we stand, before the baby is born."

"Ok."

"I want to do this right."

"I know."

"I... think that it would be a mistake to deny that..." he trails off. "I think that I need to be perfectly honest."

"About what?"

"Do you think that we let this happen?"

"Let it happen? What do you mean?"

"Have you had unprotected sex, before?"

She takes a moment and then answers, "No," she shakes her head. She looks at him for a moment, and then it clicks. "You think that I wanted this to happen?"

"I'm not saying that."

"What are you saying?"

"What if we both wanted it to. I know that you said you wanted a baby, but we both know that you could have waited ten years. Maybe we did this..."

"On purpose? You think that I did it on purpose?" She questions, clearly irritated.

"You've had drunk sex before, haven't you?"

She nods.

"So have I. I've never gotten anyone pregnant before."

"Do you think that I'm trying to trap you?" she wonders, becoming extremely annoyed.

"No," he shakes his head, "I think that the reason we let this happen, is because we both wanted."

She stares at him blankly, unsure of what to say, or do, or feel. She feels her heart racing, all of a sudden. She feels his eyes pierce her.

"No matter what, we will always be tied to one another, because of this baby."

"What is your point?"

"I don't just want to be your baby daddy," he clarifies.

"Oh," her chest tightens.

"There's something that I didn't mention about the dream I had."

"What would that be?"

"We were married, to each other."

"Is that what you want?"

"I just want you," he answers, "I want to be with you. I hate going to bed every night. My bed is empty, and I always feel like something is missing. I feel like you should be there, with me. I understand if you don't feel the same way."

"I... I wake up in the middle of the night, and it makes me..." she pauses, "sad that you aren't there."

He tousles her hair. "I love you," he admits.

She gets up off the couch, and leaves the room.

"Is our conversation over? Where are you going?"

"I'm going to bed," she answers.

"Ok."

"Are you coming, or not?" she calls from the bedroom.

His eyes light up, "Yeah I'm coming," he smiles.

Several minutes later he crawls in bed next to her. She turns off the lamp. He rolls over next to her. He wraps his arm around her. To his surprise she doesn't resist. She surprises him. She rolls over, and places her arm on his bicep.

"Is this better?" he questions.

"Than what?"

"Being in an empty bed?"

"Yes," she answers.

"Good night."

"Night," she yawns, "Love you."

When she wakes up she feels someone lying in bed next to her. She refuses to open her eyes. She feels an arm wrapped around her. Someone's hand rests on her stomach.

"You forgot to set the alarm," he whispers.

"Are we late?"

"You're late," he chuckles as his hand rests on her stomach.

"Yeah, a few months late. You know what I meant."

"No, we're not late for work. We should probably be getting up, though."

"What time is it?"

"Five thirty."

"Ok," she agrees opening her eyes. She rolls over, and looks at him. He stares into her eyes.

"We need to tell him, soon."

"I know," she acknowledges.

"You can't hide that much longer," he stares at her stomach.

"It's not that noticeable."

"To you."

"To you?"

"We should get ready," he answers, dodging the question.


	10. Confrontation

Tim watches Ziva as she enters the squad room. She notices him staring at her. She drops her backpack at her desk, and walks over to him.

"Something wrong, McGee?"

"Nope," he lies.

"Why are you staring?"

"No reason," he lies.

"You are not a good liar."

"It's nothing, really."

"It is something," she argues.

"I guess I've just noticed that..." he stops.

"That what?" she inquires.

"You've put on some weight. Look, don't take this the wrong way, but I'm here if you need to talk."

"About what?"

"Whatever."

She scowls at him, "McGee it is not what you think. I am not having an emotional affair with my food."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she nods.

"You're not upset about Tony?"

"What did he do, now?"

"Haven't you noticed?"

"Noticed what?"

"I think that he's seeing someone."

"I'm sure that he is."

"You don't sound surprised."

"I'm not," she admits.

"You don't sound upset."

"Why would I be upset?"

"I thought that you two were getting close."

"Close to what?"

"Nothing," he answers too quickly.

"Close to what?" she repeats.

"Getting it over with," he replies.

"Why, so we could go down like a lead balloon?"

"I just think that you would get along better if you relieved some of the tension between you."

"McGee, Tony is in like Flynn."

"What does that mean? I've never heard that."

"Look it up."

"Where is DiNozzo?" Gibbs questions as he enters the room. The elevator dings, and DiNozzo steps off.

1100

Ziva drives back to NCIS, from the scene. At a stop light she pulls off her jacket. Tim sits in the seat next to her, and just stares.

"Do you think that Gibbs is chewing Tony out right now?"

"That's probably why they drove separately."

Tim fixates on her stomach.

"McGee, stop staring," she scolds him, without taking her eyes off the road.

He begins connecting dots in his head.

"So are you feeling better now?"

"Better than what?"

"It seems like you were sick for months. You threw up on the way to a scene, and in a dumpster next to a scene. On my shoes, did you figure out what was making you sick?"

"Tony," she mutters under her breath.

"Tony makes all of us sick, I would think that you would have built up a tolerance to him by now," Tim doesn't miss a beat.

"I'm fine. I won't throw up on you again."

"I noticed that you tried to make sure that Gibbs didn't notice, why was that?"

"I didn't want to be sent home."

"Are you going to tell him?" McGee questions.

"Tell who, what?"

"Tell Gibbs."

"There is nothing to tell."

"You aren't going to tell him, about this? He's going to be furious."

"About what?"

"Ziva, I may be a man, but I am not completely oblivious. I suggest that if you don't want Gibbs to know, you put your jacket back on."

"Know about what?"

"The fact that you're pregnant."

She looks at him for a moment. "Why do you think that?"

He points to her stomach, and gives her a, _Who do you think you're fooling?, _look. "You are clearly pregnant."

"Clearly?"

"The puking, the baby belly. I mean come on."

"Why does it matter?"

"How many times have you been shot at recently?"

"A few."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"McGee I'm not worried about it."

"Why don't you want anyone to know?"

"I never said I didn't."

"You haven't made an announcement, and I'm guessing that you're more than a couple of months along."

"It's complicated."

"Does anyone know?"

"Yes."

"How far along are you?"

"A few months," she answers.

"Abby knows?" he surmises.

"Does anything get by her?" she responds.

"Generally, no."

"And Tony?"

"What about him?"

"Does he know?"

"He's my partner," she replies.

"He knows?"

"Yes."


	11. Bear The Brunt

"Why wouldn't you want me to know? Why wouldn't you want Gibbs to know?"

"Do you think that it was planned?"

"I don't know," he shrugs.

"It wasn't," she assures him.

"So it was an accident? You don't have accidents, unless they involve cars," he points out.

"We all make..." she chooses her words carefully, "bad judgment calls, sometimes."

"You don't think it was a mistake?"

"No," she answers quickly.

"I can't believe that you're having a baby."

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

"I didn't think that you wanted kids."

"Sometimes we don't know what we want."

"How did this happen?"

"There was some alcohol involved," she admits.

"I see."

"And to answer your earlier statement, up until recently I didn't think that I wanted kids."

"This changed your mind?"

"No. I had been considering the idea for a while. It's kind of like asking Santa for a puppy, in June, you don't really expect to get what you asked for, especially not right away."

"Why don't you want Gibbs to know?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I just want to know."

"Then figure it out," she responds.

"You don't want him to know, because you don't want to be in trouble."

"Why would I be in trouble?"

"Wait a minute... a few months ago, didn't you go to a bar with Tony? And you two came in extremely hangover the next day. Did you... are you..."

"I do not recall," she lies.

"You're lying. It all makes sense now. Tony is seeing someone, you aren't upset, because it is you. You don't want Gibbs to know because you're going to have to tell him that the father is Tony."

"You are jumping to conclusions," she warns.

"Are you saying that I am wrong?"

"No. I am not."

"So why don't you want Gibbs to know?"

"I don't want to get grounded."

"Desk duty does not bring out good qualities in you."

"I agree."

"So you're having a baby? With Tony?"

"Does it matter who it's with?"

"You shouldn't have to do it alone."

"I will not be."

"So do you know what you're having?"

"No."

"Are you going to find out?"

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"I do not want to know."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't matter. I do not have a preference."

"Does Tony want to know?"

"How should I know?"

"Ziva, you should tell Gibbs."

"I am not ready, yet."

"Then I suggest that you doing a better job of trying to hide it. Although, the longer you hide it from him, the madder he is going to be. You should just tell him."

"Maybe," she agrees.

"Maybe? You know that it's true. He's going to find out, and I don't want to be there when he does."

"Why not?"

"You broke rule number twelve."

"No," she argues, "I did not. I am not dating a co-worker."

"Rule number one?"

"Never let suspects stay together?"

"The other rule number one, never screw your partner."

"McGee it is not never screw your partner, it is never screw over your partner."

"I think that is still applies, Gibbs is going to take his anger out on Tony. He can't do anything to you."

"Why not?"

"Because you're pregnant, with Tony's baby."

"McGee!"

"You having a baby with Tony is like me having a baby with Abby, it's just wrong."

"You and Abby would make cute babies," Ziva smirks.

"Stay on topic," he warns.

"Maybe the two of you should have a baby," Ziva teases.

"You are not funny."

"Don't you think Abby would like to have a baby?"

"I am sure that she would, but I am not going to offer."

"You don't want one?"

"Not right now."

"Ha!"

"Ha? What did I say?"

"You said not right now. You didn't say that you didn't want one with her."

"You are twisting this, into something that it's not."

"You've never considered it?"

"No Ziva, I can't believe that you ever considered having a baby, with Tony. I can't believe that you are actually going to have his baby. It's like an alternate universe, but the two of you are the only ones who are in it."

"Why are you so upset by this? You aren't having a baby with him."

"Why aren't you more upset? You have having a baby, with Tony. You are never going to be able to get away from him. You are going to be stuck with him, forever. That is going to get old, believe me."

"What I don't mind?"

"He is insanely jealous. The second that you bring a guy around, his kid, he is going to lose it."

"I am not bringing anyone around right now."

"You're having his child, do you really think that means the two of you are going to be together?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Has he proposed marriage?"

"McGee, what is your problem?"

"This is going to end badly. Gibbs is going to be angry with the both of you, he'll be cranky, and I'll bear the brunt of it."

"You are too dramatic."

"He's is going to be pissed when he finds out."

"Why?"

"Because he is better at reading people than I am, and he'll know."

"Know what?"

"Tony loves you."


	12. Think Twice

"What makes you say that?"

"He has been in love with you, for years. I thought that you knew that."

"McGee..."

"He loves you, but he doesn't know how to make things work. He has never been able to commit, no matter how badly he has wanted to. Something always holds him back."

"You're talking about Jean?"

"No."

"No? He couldn't commit to her."

"Not for the reasons that you might think."

"He let her go."

"Because he didn't want to lose you."

"What?"

"He's afraid of losing you. Why do you think that he dragged me to Africa? He cares nothing about being the hero, the knight and shining armor. Which is weird since he is so self-absorbed. He came for you, because he isn't himself, without you."

"And you think that he is going to screw it up?"

"I think that he already has. You're having a child together. It doesn't get much more complicated."

"McGee... I am not running."

He looks at her. She takes her eyes off the road for an instant, and looks at him. She quickly returns the focus to driving. Suddenly it clicks.

"You love him back?"

Ziva doesn't answer.

"Unbelievable. You love him."

"Why is that unbelievable?"

"You have been running from him for a long time."

"I was tired, of pretending, that his serial dating didn't bother me. I was tired of trying to get back at him, make him jealous. I am done playing games with him."

"And what is this?"

"Not a game."

"What is it, then?"

"I do not know," she admits.

"You don't know?"

"He...I..we..."

"You are having a hard time believing him?"

"And trusting myself."

"You're scared?"

"This could end very badly. I did not think this through. I did not have a chance, it just happened."

"Are you having second thoughts?"

"I am... what if I cannot overcome..."

"You will be fine."

"McGee, how can you know?"

"I just do."

"I don't. McGee I have been married to my job for so long that I do not know how to do anything else. I do not know how to be normal, how to be in a family. I am going to have a child, and I want it to have a normal life, but I do not know how to provide that. How do I..."

"What are you afraid of?"

"What if this is the only thing that I am good at?" she questions, her voice cracking.

"You are good at a lot of things."

"But what if this, isn't one of them?"

"It will be."

"I don't know what I am doing. I am afraid that I am going to screw everything up. I have never been good at relationships. I have never been able to make things work. I have to make this work. If I don't, I will feel like a failure. I can't go back to the way things were, I just..."

"You are never going to regret what you gave up, for love. You and Tony, that's...it is unconventional, but I think that's why I have always known that if the two of you ever gave it a shot, it would work."

"McGee it's bigger than just that. If things worked out badly, if the truth had come out, and... if there was no baby, and everything went wrong, I could walk away. I probably wouldn't, but I would have that option. I am afraid that we disagree on too many things to ever make it work."

"You don't have to agree on everything, just the important things. Listen, I know that this is something that you never expected to happen, but it has. You have to deal with it. I know you're scared that you, or Tony is going to sabotage this somehow. Before you never had a reason to make it work, now you do."

"And if it doesn't? I just want my child to have the chance to have the childhood that I didn't."

"The word you're looking for is normal?"

"Yes."

"You don't think that in this day and age that is normal for a child to have two parents who aren't together?"

"I do not want that."

"Then make it work."

"How?"

"Talk to him. Stop holding things back."

"I have never been good at letting anyone in."

"You're going to have to get used to it. Soon you're going to have child. If that child is anything like you, or Tony, it is going to ask you questions you have never even imagined. You need to be ready with the truth. You can't lie, because, then you'll raise a liar."

"You're right."

"I know. I'm not sure why you're coming to me for advice, considering my love life is non-existent, but..."

"You are looking for the right one?"

"Yes," he nods.

"I think you're looking too hard."

"I just keep wondering when I'm going to meet her, or if I've already met her, and I just don't know it."

"McGee, stop looking."

"Stop looking?"

"Just open your eyes."

"My eyes are wide open."

"Stop analyzing everything, and just live," Ziva suggests.

"Isn't that how you got that, way?" He smiles, and points to her stomach.

"Yes," she laughs.


	13. Revealing The Truth

She sits at her desk, staring blankly, at her computer screen. She looks over at Tony, he continues with his work, not noticing her. She turns her gaze towards McGee. He looks up for a brief second, and returns to his work. She looks over at Gibbs desk. He stares back at her, with big blue eyes. She quickly refocuses her eyes on her computer screen.

Tony gets up from his desk, and walks out of the squad room. After a few moments Ziva gets up from her desk too. She makes her way into the Men's bathroom. When she steps inside she finds that this time she and Tony are alone. She locks the door behind her. He looks at her for a moment, completely unsurprised to see her.

"What's on your mind?"

"I think that it's time to come clean," she admits.

"About what?"

"About what? I think that you know what I am referring to."

"Right," he nods.

She stands next to the sink. He walks over, turning on the faucet beside her. He watches her as he washes his hands.

"So what's the plan? We'll tell him together?"

"No. I will tell him about the baby, alone. I do not think that now is the right time, to bring up the rest of the situation."

"Which is what?"

"That you are the father."

"That's the situation?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," he shakes his head, moving towards the door.

She jumps between him and the door.

"Do not walk away from me," she warns.

"I thought that we were finished."

"Why are you upset?"

"I thought that the situation was more than just the fact that we're having a baby."

"We didn't break any rules."

"But maybe we should."

"Maybe we should?"

"Break rule number twelve."

"Why?"

"Why? You are..."

"I already know everything I need to know about you."

"So why are we still standing here? Why are we still standing still? We both know what we want, and neither one of us are doing a damn thing to get it."

"I'm having your baby," she reminds him.

"But..."

"Do you see me having anyone else's baby?"

"No..."

"I don't know what you want me to say, or do. I thought that you knew what I wanted. I thought that we were both clear."

"I want you."

"Ok."

"But you're still holding back."

"I am sorry. I do not know what else I can say. Tony, I want this, but..."

"You are afraid that I am going to let you down. You are afraid that I am going to disappoint you, so you don't want to lay your hear on the line."

"It isn't just me that I have to worry about anymore."

"What is it going to take for me to prove to you that I am not going anywhere? What do I have to do to convince you that I love you, and I always have? I just want you. Why are you so afraid of that?"

"In life things do not always work out the way that you planned them. Sometimes people say, or do stupid things, and they ruin everything."

"Stop worrying about that. Just let me love you."

Her fingers touch the lock. He peels her fingers off the door.

"Look at me," he insists.

She stares at him. Her back is against the door. He stands inches from her. She looks at him, unsure of what is about to happen. He leans forward. He kisses her on the cheek.

"Just let me love you," he whispers into her ear. He steps back. She unlocks the door, and pulls it open.

She leaves the bathroom, and returns to the squad room. She marches past her desk, stopping at Gibbs. She stands in front of his desk, just waiting for him to look up. Finally he does.

"Something I can help you with Ziva?"

"I need to talk to you."

"About the case?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"So, talk."

"In private," she adds.

"Ok," he agrees.

She follows him into the conference room. He takes a seat at the end of the table. She takes a seat to his right. He studies her face, and asks, "So is this where you tell me what's been going on with you lately?"

"Yes," she nods.

"Ok," he answers, a little surprised, "What is going on?"

"I should have told you sooner, but there just did not seem to be a good time."

"Now is a good time."

"Over the past few months, things have started to change for me."

"What things?"

"Everything," she admits.

"Everything? What is going on?"

"I have decided that I want to have a baby."

"Ok. Is there a reason that you're telling me, that?"

"Let me rephrase that, I am having a baby."

"You are having a baby? Does that mean that you have plans to have a baby, or..."

"I am pregnant," she reveals.

"I see."

"That is all you're going to say?"

"I am not sure what to say. I didn't expect this."

"Nor did I, but..."

"I understand, that sometimes things happen."

"What does this mean, for my job?"

"It means that you have to wear a vest."

"That's it?"

"And don't walk into the line of fire?"

"You are taking this much better than I expected."

"Ziva you are entitled to have a life. You know that, right?"

"Yes."

"I will not ask who the other party involved in the situation is, because I think that it is probably better if you don't confirm my suspicions."

"Plausible deniability?"

"Exactly. Ziva..."

"Yes?"

"Don't let the director find out, for a while."

"Ok," she agrees.

He pushes out of his chair. He stands up, and starts towards the door. She slowly rises from his chair, following his path to the door. In the doorway, he stops, and turn to face her. He smiles.

"Oh, and congratulations."


	14. Changes

He sits across the room from her. He waits until their fearless leader leaves them. As soon as he is out of sight, he approaches her desk. She types on her keyboard. She doesn't look up at him, even when he clears his throat. He realizes that she is aware of his presence. He begins talking.

"So how did it go?"

"Much better than I expected."

"He didn't chew you out?"

"No."

"He didn't punish you? Banish you to desk duty?"

"No. He told me to wear a vest."

"That's it?"

"And he congratulated me."

"Does that mean that I am going to get the short end of the stick?"

"He told me that he didn't want to know about that part."

"Do you think that he knows?"

"It's Gibbs, he knows everything about us, doesn't he?" she questions as she looks at the computer screen.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"You can go back to work now," she suggests.

"Why? Are you mad at me, or something?"

He breaks her concentration. She looks at him. Her eyes meet his.

"What do I have to mad at you for?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, "I mean... I thought that you might still be..."

She cuts him off, "I suggest that you refrain from finishing that sentence, unless you want me to be angry with you."

"Noted," he nods.

"So are you going to go back to work now, or are you going to continue to interrupt me?"

"Why are you so cranky, today?"

McGee walks up to the desk. He places a granola bar on her desk. She looks at McGee, and smiles.

"Thank you McGee."

"What was that?" Tony looks at McGee.

"It's noon, she hasn't eaten since she's been here. You don't think that she might be hungry? I am sure that you're thinking about food right now. You aren't the only one who gets cranky when they're hungry."

"McSuckup, I do not get cranky when I'm hungry," Tony argues.

"McGee he is to stubborn to admit that, you should know that by now."

"So are you going to go get lunch?" McGee queries.

"Yes, McGoofy, I will go get lunch."

Tony sulks as he makes his way to the elevator.

McGee looks at Ziva, and smiles.

"What?" she wonders.

"I think that I know why Gibbs doesn't need you to tell him, I mean, other than it's obvious."

"What do you mean?"

"He doesn't have to do anything to Tony. Tony will be lucky if you don't kill him."

"I don't know what it is, but he get on my nerves so much more than before."

"I don't think that he's trying."

"You're saying it's me, not him?"

"He is no more annoying that he has ever been."

"If anything, this is going to be a test of will power. Before it took all of my strength, now to throttle him. You will help restrain me?"

"I know the, _I want to kill him, _look. I have become very familiar with it. I will help you, if I can, but I know that you are difficult to stop, when your mind is set on something."

"That is true, maybe you should take my weapons."

"You need them."

"I do not need any weapons to protect myself."

"It's protocol," he reminds her.

"Maybe you should just hide my paperclips, and my stapler, things I can quickly grab, while I am sitting at my desk."

"Or maybe I could just hand cuff you to your chair?"

"I'm being ridiculous? Is that what you're trying to say?"

"Yes, Ziva, a little."

"I hope he hurries, because I'm starving."

"That comes with the territory, get used to it," Gibbs suggests.

McGee returns to his desk.

Gibbs stands in front of Ziva's desk.

"Ziver?"

"Yes?"

"Try not to kill any of us, ok?"

"I was just discussing that with McGee."

"I know how irritating Tony can be, but you can't kill him."

"Can I hurt him, just a little?"

"You can't leave any marks," Gibbs insists.

"Fair enough," she nods.

"And Ziva?" he turns to walk away.

"Yes?"

"I know that you are going to want to do everything that you always have, but... there will come a time that you can't. You need to learn how to ask for help."

"Ok," she agrees.

She stands in front of a full length mirror, on the door of her bathroom. She stares at herself. From the front it wasn't so noticeable. She turns to the side. She was used to having a tight, well toned abdomen. It wasn't necessarily a six-pack, but it was rock solid. Now... instead of flat, tight abs, she had something else. It wasn't that noticeable. It was just rounder than usual.

He knocks on the door.

"I'll be out in a minute."

"Ziva, stop obsessing," he tells her.

She pulls open the door. She looks at him. He stares at her with a smile. She wears a grey, crew-neck, t-shirt. Underneath she wears a pair of blue pajama pants. The loose t-shirt hides the growing bump underneath.

"What are you smiling at?"

"You," he replies.

"Why?"

"Because I can."

"What are you doing here? Did you come to tuck me in?"

"Ziva, it is ok, you know."

"What is?"

"To have a hard time dealing with the changes. That is ok."

"Everything is changing, and I'm afraid that I'm not going to be ready."

"Just take your time."

"I'm not on my time, anymore."

"Do you think that we made a mistake?"


	15. Night And Day

"Do you?"

"I don't, but I am asking you what you think."

"No. I think we should have talked about it more, when we were sober, before we did it."

"You don't like the way things are turning out?"

"I don't want to do this alone."

"You are not alone."

"This is not how I expected things to go."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want more."

"More than what?"

"This. I don't just want to have your baby."

"Oh."

"I know that probably isn't what you want to hear. I know that you don't want..."

"You don't know what I want," he argues.

"So what do you want?"

"I want you. I thought that I made that clear."

"You said that, but..."

"You didn't believe me?"

"How can I believe you, when I can't even believe what's happening, inside my own body?"

"I know that this is scary, that you are afraid that you are going to do something wrong, but no matter what, I love you."

"I..."

He steps closer, he takes her in his arms. He holds her close. She listens to the sound of his heart beating. He kisses her hair. Several moments later he lets go.

"Bed," he points.

"I'm not tired."

"That's a lie. Get in bed."

"But..."

"I'm not going anywhere. That is a promise. I am never going anywhere. I know that you have a hard time believing me. I know that everyone in your life that you have loved, has left you, but I am not going to. No matter what, I will never, ever leave you."

She climbs into bed.

She wakes up in his arms. She stares at him as he sleeps. She smiles, knowing that he would never lie to her. There may have been things that he could never say, but he had never lied to her, not even once.

"Go back to sleep," he mutters.

She doesn't argue. She closes her eyes, and falls back to sleep. When she wakes up it's morning. She rolls over, and finds the bed empty. She crawls out of bed, and stumbles into the kitchen. She finds him standing over the stove.

"What are you doing?"

"Making you breakfast."

"Why?"

"Because you have to eat breakfast."

"Can't we just go back to bed?"

"We have to go to work today."

"Oh, right."

He follows her into the bullpen. She stomps ahead of him. McGee looks up from his desk, as they enter. She takes a seat at her desk.

"Why do you have to be so insensitive?"

"I am not insensitive, you're just overreacting."

"I am overreacting? I hardly think so. You are insane."

"Really?"

"Yes," she nods.

"I am just trying to look out for you."

"Look out for me? I do not need you to look out for me."

"Sometimes I'm right."

"Not usually."

"Caffeine is a toxin."

"You had two cups of coffee this morning," she points out.

"That is different."

"How? I had one sip of tea. Then you dumped it out. I think that you were overreacting, a little bit."

"It's not good for you."

"There are a lot of things, that aren't good for me."

"Like what?"

"Like you, and your tyrant behavior. It gets on my nerves. You do not own me. I am not a piece of property. You do not control what I put into my body."

"It's not good for the baby."

"You are impossible!" she shouts.

"Why?"

"If you had asked me not to drink the tea, maybe I would have seen some reason. You didn't ask, you just charged up to me, and took it, and dumped it in the sink."

"What do you need caffeine for?"

"We work twelve hours a day."

"So?"

"Do you think that you would be happy if you didn't have caffeine all day?"

"I don't know," he shrugs.

"It is not like I am taking drugs. I just like to have one cup of tea, in the morning. That is not a crime, the last time I checked."

"I just don't like it."

"I will make you a deal, just to end this argument."

"What is that?"

"I will cut out all of the caffeine, if you do the same."

"Why do I have to? You're the one having the baby."

"I think that it is only fair."

"How?"

McGee chimes in, "She's right. You can't ask her to do something that you're not willing to do. I mean after all, she is the one who has to expel something the size of a bowling ball out of her. It is only fair that you give up caffeine."

"Who asked you McGrubworm?"

Gibbs stares at the back of Tony's head.

"We were just getting ready to grab our gear," Tony explains.

"So you're done arguing?" Gibbs questions.

"Yes, Boss," Tony nods.

"Good," he smacks the back of Tony's head.


	16. Mind Games

He drums his pencil on the desk. She looks at him in irritation. He feels her eyes boring into him.

"Would you stop?"

"Am I annoying you, Ziva?"

"Tony, behave," McGee warns.

"Ha, like he even knows how to behave," she rolls her eyes.

"I know how to behave," Tony argues childishly.

"Don't you have work to be doing?"

Tony looks at McGee, and scowls, "I see how this is going to be. You're going to take the pregnant Ninja's side? Fine, I don't need you anyway McGee."

"I am not taking sides, but if I were, I would choose her, because you're always wrong."

"Thanks for you support McGee," Tony growls.

"Why are you being so annoying today, anyway? I mean you are being more annoying than your usual self," McGee points out.

"She's being mean."

"She hasn't been mean to you all day. When you tripped on the rug at the crime scene, she even offered to help you up."

"You wouldn't understand the complex mind games she plays, McGee."

"Are you insinuating that I do not understand women?"

"It's true, isn't it?" Tony shoots back.

"Why do you think she's playing mind games with you?" McGee redirects.

"Because she had a doctor's appointment this morning, and she failed to mention it to me."

"Maybe she wanted to have an hour of peace," McGee offers.

"No, she didn't want me to bribe the doctor."

"Bribe him? Why would you do that? Why am I asking? Why do you do anything?"

"Because she doesn't want to find out the sex of the baby. I do."

"Tony did you ever think that maybe it's better if you don't find out?"

"Why would I think that?"

"Because then you can respect her wishes."

"What are you getting at here, McDeadman?"

"I think that what McGee is trying to say, is that if you find out, you won't be able to keep it to yourself. You will tell everyone you see, even people that you don't know."

"That's a problem, why?"

"Because she doesn't want to know," McGee replies.

"Why? Why don't you want to know? Why do we both have to suffer? I don't want to be surprised. I hate surprises. I just want to know. I don't have a preference, I just want to be prepared. I want to know whether to get a football jersey, or a cheerleading uniform."

"You could get both," McGee suggests.

"I could get both? Ha."

"You're getting worked up, why don't you go get a candy bar, or something?" McGee tries to shoo him.

"Why do the two of you always try to solve my problems with food? You're enablers."

"When was the last time you ate?" Ziva questions.

He looks at his watch, "About three hours ago."

"Exactly, my point," McGee admits.

"Now that you mention it, I am hungry."

"Go get something to eat, we can finish this horrible conversation when you get back," Ziva smiles.

He gets up from his desk, and crosses his arms. He stamps over to her desk, "Fine, but we will finish this when I get back," he insists.

"Of course," she agrees.

When Tony is out of eyesight McGee wanders over to Ziva's desk. He stares her down.

"McGee can I help you? Do you need something."

"You know, don't you?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Because I can read you," he points out.

"Only because I let you."

"So you do know?"

"Yes," she reveals.

"It's cruel not to tell him."

"You have no idea."

"What made you change your mind?"

"I don't know," she shrugs.

"You don't know? You have a reason for doing everything."

"Yes, that is true."

"So are you going to tell me?"

"Why would I tell you?"

"I am a million times better at keeping secrets, than Tony."

"That does not mean that I should tell you."

"Please, I need something to hold over him. He's been so annoying the last few days."

"You want to tell him?"

"Please," he begs.

"It would be kind of fun, but you have to do it at the right time."

"Of course," he agrees.

"I'll tell you, but if you tell another soul... before I give you permission... you will never have to worry about having any children of your own," she threatens.

He swallows hard, "Understood."

"You cannot tell anyone. Especially not Abby."

"Why not Abby?"

"She can't keep a secret from Gibbs."

"Gibbs can keep secrets."

"Only if he chooses to."

"He is getting sick of the way you and DiNozzo have been behaving lately."

"We have been on our best behavior. I hardly even laughed when he face planted at the crime scene, when he fell over that rug."

"Exactly. The two of you don't fight anymore. It's driving us all crazy."

"If you want to know, I suggest that you stop while you're ahead."

"Ok," he nods in agreement.

"You were right, by the way."

"Right, how?"

"When you told him to get both."

"To get both? What do you mean? It's a hermaphrodite?"

She scrunches her face, "No."

"I don't understand, why would you need both?"

She shrugs. He takes a moment to process. His face lights up.

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, really?"

He holds up two fingers, she just smiles, and nods, as Tony approaches.


	17. Twice As Nice

He watches her as she brushes her teeth. She watches him, in the mirror, watching her. She spits, and rinses. She just looks at him in the mirror.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"Am I? Sorry."

"Tony, you're being awfully quiet."

"I was just thinking, I guess."

"When did you learn to do that in silence?"

"Ha, ha."

She turns around, and looks at him, "What's on your mind?"

"I guess I just have babies on the brain," he admits.

She follows his eyes. She stares at her growing stomach. When she looks back up, he's looking at her face. She furrows her brow as he smiles at her.

"Why are you being so weird?"

"It might have something to do with you having my child."

"Oh, that."

"Can I ask you something, without you getting offended?"

"I can't make any promises."

"What's it like."

"What?"

"Being pregnant."

"What do you mean?"

"Isn't it weird? To have something in there, growing, and..."

"It takes some getting used to," she admits.

"Does it move around in there?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Yes," she nods.

He scrutinizes her stomach, in curiosity. She reaches out, and pulls his hand towards her. She presses his hand against her stomach.

"What am I..."

She cuts him off, "Just wait a second."

His finger moves, and then he feels movement.

"That was the baby?"

"Yes."

"It doesn't weird you out?"

"Not anymore."

"Zi," he looks into her eyes.

"Yes?"

"This still feels surreal. I mean we're having a baby. And I..." he trails off.

"You what?"

"There are still a lot of things that we need to work out, before this baby gets here."

"We have months."

"And years worth of issues to work through."

"What issues? We have the healthiest relationship, of any two people I know."

"We're having a baby. There are still a lot of things that need to be worked out."

"Like what?"

"I need you to trust me."

"I trust you with my life, every single day."

"I need you to believe that I am not going to break your heart. Let me in. You can't keep me out all of the time. Sometimes you have to tell me things, even when you don't want to. Sometimes I see the thoughts going through your head, but you never say anything. It drives me crazy, not knowing what you're thinking."

"It is not easy for me."

"I know that, but... we're going to have a child together."

"Tony, go sit down," she points to the bed.

"Why?"

"Please, just do it."

He leaves the bathroom, and heads into the bedroom. He takes a seat on the end of the bed. She flips off the bathroom light, as she exits. She finds a seat next to him on the bed.

"Why am I sitting down?"

"I didn't want you to pass out."

"Why would I pass out?"

"We aren't just having a child together."

"I know, we're going to share a life together. We have to figure out how to make that work. I know that. I am still not sure about the how, but I know that we will. We always manage to do, what needs to be done."

"You are not listening."

"You just said 'we aren't just having a child together', I thought that I responded appropriately."

"Maybe I wasn't clear."

"So clarify."

"We are not just having one child."

"What?" he furrows his brow.

"We are having..."

He cuts her off, "What do you mean we are not just having one child?"

"Let me finish my sentence."

"Ok," he agrees.

"We are having more than one."

"More than one? What are you talking about. Do they come in multiples?"

"Calm down," she insists.

He takes a deep breath, "Ok, I'm calm. We are going to have more than one. Can you explain that. Please tell me that you meant, we are going to have one now, and then eventually, down the road, you hope that we have another one, so we'll have more than one."

"That is not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"We are going to have two."

"Two? You want to have two kids? We can have two."

"It is not about want, so much as, we are having two."

"Two?"

"Twins. We are having twins."

"We're having twins? Are you sure?"

"Yes," she nods.

"Since when? When did we find this out?"

"At the doctor's appointment."

"There weren't two before. I saw pictures."

"There were, but I guess that sometimes one can hide behind the other one, early on."

"We are having two babies, at one time?"

"Yes."

"But... I... how..."

"Calm down, breathe."


	18. What You Don't Know

"I don't know if I can handle two. What if we have two girls? I don't know what to do with a girl. They are so needy. And there is all the pink, and the bows, and the..." he begins to hyperventilate.

"Can you just chill?"

"How are you so calm?"

"I have had time to process."

"I can't believe this. How are we..."

"If you calm down I will tell you the good news."

"Good news? What good news? We are going to have double everything. Double the diapers. Twice the tuition, twice the braces, and glasses, if they need them. Twice the colds, and runny noses, and bumps, and bruises. Twice the trouble. Twice the birthday, and Christmas, and Hanukkah presents. Twice the cars. Twice the college funds..."

"Not double everything," she argues.

"Can we just agree that we won't let them wear pink, or matching outfits?"

"I would hope that we wouldn't dress them both in pink."

"Because then we couldn't tell them apart? What if they're identical? We'll have to mark them somehow, or something."

"They are not identical."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, it is impossible for them to be identical."

"Impossible? How is it impossible?"

"For them to be identical they would both have to be the same gender."

"Meaning..."

"They are not."

"They are not? What..."

"You're having a really hard time wrapping your head around this, aren't you?"

"I was having a hard enough time picturing myself as the father to one child. Now we are having two."

"Yes, we are."

"What was the good news, again?"

"They aren't identical."

"That is good. How do we know they aren't identical?"

"Because there is one of each."

"Of of each?"

"A boy, and a girl."

"A boy, and a girl?"

"Yes," she nods.

"You know this isn't how I pictured it, at all."

"Pictured what?"

"When I pictured you pregnant, it wasn't like this."

"Really? How did you picture it?"

"You were cranky, and swollen, and not nearly as beautiful."

"I see."

"Can you just keep talking?"

"About what?"

"It doesn't matter, I just need to calm down."

"You know that you probably aren't going to have any say in what their names are."

"I'm ok with that. You have to carry them, and give birth to them, and... if you want to name one Princess, and the other Prince, or Bear, and Daisy, it's up to you."

"Good, as long as we're clear."

"You are going to have pain medication, right? And you are going to let me take your weapons away from you, when you go into labor."

"No."

"No? I don't think I want to be in the room, then."

"Why not?"

"I want to live to see them born."

"I promise not to kill you. I haven't killed you yet, have I?"

"You won't be so calm, and rational, when you are trying to push bowling balls out of..." he stops himself.

"I will try not to kill you, I do need you."

"What do you need me for? You are superwoman. You can handle anything."

She replies in a softer tone, "I need you."

His eyes meet hers, "You need me?"

"Yes," she nods.

"But why? I know that are capable of doing anything, that you set your mind to. Why do you need me?"

"I am better with you."

"Better, how?"

"I just am."

"I can't imagine that you need me for anything."

"I do."

"For what? What have you ever needed me for?"

"I can not reproduce on my own," she points out.

"Yes, but any male is capable of that."

"I asked you for a reason."

"And what would that be?"

"Can I pass on that question?"

"No, answer, or I'll think that you're hiding something."

"I guess, that I could just never picture anyone else as the father of my child, of my children."

"What?"

"I don't know why, but..." she stops mid-sentence.

"But?"

"There was something about you... that night, you were following me, when I still believe that Ari was innocent."

"The way I talked incessantly, or made awkward small talk?"

"The way you said goodnight."

"What? Are you serious?"

"And your eyes."

"My eyes?"

"They're honest."

"This must be the hormones talking."

"No," she shakes her head.

"When did you decide this?"

"In Somalia. When I realized that I wasn't going to make it out alive."

"But you did."

"And if anyone else had come, I wouldn't have."

"You don't know that," he argues.

"I wouldn't have wanted to. I had accepted, that I was going to die there, in that place. But somewhere, in the back of my mind, was this image of you, laughing, and being completely ridiculous, in the wrong situation, just like always. I guess I just kept hoping that you would come, because if anyone was naive enough to think that they could change anything, it would be you. I knew that if anyone was crazy enough to think that they could take out Saleem, it would be you."

"I would always come for you."

"You had no way of knowing I was alive."

"But, I wasn't going to rest, until I knew, that you were dead, and so was the person that was responsible, for your death."

"That is when I knew. You came, when there was no hope, you still had my back, even when you thought that I was dead. My whole life, no one had ever been loyal to me, until I met you. I was certain I would die in that desert, but even when I believed in nothing else, I believed in you. I don't know why, but I did. Saleem tried to convince me of a lot of things, but he could never convince me, that you had betrayed me."

"I never would."

"But why did you come?"


	19. Moments

"Because you would have done the same for me."

"Of course."

"And that's why, because there is no question in your mind, that you would do the same. There isn't a moment of hesitation, that you would do the same, for me."

"Why would there be?"

"Most people would have to think twice."

"I don't."

"You don't need me," he insists.

"You're wrong."

"How?"

"I was ready for it to be over. If you had not shown up when you did, my life would have ended that day."

"Saleem would have tortured you for weeks, and weeks, until..."

"No, I didn't want to live anymore. I knew how to provoke him, how to play his game. I knew how to infuriate him, enough, to put the gun to my head, and pull the trigger. I wasn't going to live in that hell for another day. I knew that if I did, I would not have any humanity left to salvage. I would be beyond saving."

"You never talk about what happened."

"Why would I?"

"You relive it everyday, what would talking about it change?"

"Nothing, and that is the point. Talking about it, changes nothing. We both know what happened, we don't really need to talk about it. You are the only person who knows what I am thinking, without me saying a word. I don't why, or how, but it seems as if you know everything about me."

"It's my job."

"How do you do it?"

"I spend a lot of time with you."

"So do Tim, and Gibbs. It's not the same."

"What do you mean?"

"Just yesterday I was sitting at my desk, thinking about lunch, and then you announced that you were going to pick up something to eat. I didn't say anything, or give any indication that..."

"Your stomach growled."

"Nope."

"You shot me a look."

"No. I didn't. I was sitting at my desk, staring at the computer screen, working on our case."

"We're creatures of habit."

"It was three o'clock in the afternoon."

"I knew you had to be hungry."

"We had eaten lunch already."

"A magician does not reveal his tricks."

"Tell me what I'm thinking right now," she begs, staring at the wall, refusing to look at him.

"Well, we had a rough day at work, and you're thinking that right now, if you weren't pregnant, you'd be having a drink. You're wondering if it would be wrong to go pour a glass, and just smell it."

"A glass of what?"

"Beer? You don't even like beer."

"That's why it doesn't make any sense."

"That really is what you're thinking?"

"Yes," she nods.

"I don't always know what you're thinking, just most of the time."

"I see."

"Do you want me to get a bowl, or should I bring the whole container?"

"Of what?"

"Ice cream."

She smiles, "A bowl will do."

"You'd rather have the carton."

"Yes, but in a year, I don't want to still look pregnant."

"Of course not," he leaves the room.

He returns with a bowl of ice cream. He hands it to her, and she stares at him, in disappointment.

"We were out of chocolate syrup," he clarifies.

"So you forgot the spoon?"

"Oh, I guess so."

A few moments later he returns with the spoon. "Did you want chocolate syrup? Because I can go get some."

"It will be gone by the time you get back with chocolate syrup."

"And you'll be asleep."

"Tony?"

"Huh?"

"When was the last time you were in your apartment?"

"I don't know, why? Are you getting sick of me? I can go home. You'd probably like to have the bed to yourself, for once, wouldn't you?"

"That isn't why I was asking."

"Oh."

"It just doesn't make any sense for us to have two apartments, when we are always together."

"Right," he nods, "We should look for a bigger place. Our numbers are about to double."

"I was wrong," she informs him.

He gets off the bed, and heads to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To get the chocolate syrup."

"Not about that," she clarifies.

"Oh, about what?"

"A lot of things."

"Specifically?"

"Sometimes, there are things, that we should discuss. There are some things I should tell you."

"I'm listening."

"I was wrong to think that I could ask you to do this, and not..." she hesitates.

"And not what?"

"Fall in love with you. I never should have asked you, because... I didn't expect this. I guess that I hoped you'd say no."

"Why? You don't want this?"

"I do."

"So what's the problem?"

"I am afraid that you don't. I am afraid that I want something other than you do. What if we have different expectations?"

"I am not going anywhere. Haven't I made that clear?"

"I want more than that."

"You're talking about the dirty word that starts with c?"

She furrows her brow.

"Commitment," he clarifies.

She doesn't answer. He smiles, widely, "If that's what you want, all you have to do is ask."


	20. Late Night Calls

"I can't."

"You can't ask?"

"I don't know if I am really ready for this."

"Which part?"

"Any of it. I don't know how to make this work."

"Sometimes things don't work," he reminds her.

"You don't think that we can make this work."

"We can, I'm just saying, it isn't the end of the world, if we can't."

"I don't want that life."

"What life?"

"The one where we aren't together. The one where we work together, and barely even speak. The life where the only time we see each other outside of work is trading kids. I just... I don't want that."

"So we make it work."

"Because we have to?"

"Because we want to. That's why."

"But how?"

"One step at a time," he answers, pushing her hair behind her shoulder.

"I am not very good at taking things one step at a time."

"I know. You take leaps, instead of steps. Don't worry, I'll show you."

"How did everything change, so fast?"

He smiles, "You told me you wanted a baby."

"Yes, but I never thought that this would happen."

"You think that I did?"

"You agreed."

"Are you saying that I shouldn't have?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I'm saying."

"Do you want to take it back?"

"No."

"That's good, because neither do I."

"How are we going to do this? I mean we are not having just one baby, we're having two."

"So you've said."

"You don't believe me?"

"I do, it's just kind of unbelievable. I mean sometimes we can barely take care of ourselves, and soon we're going to have to take care to two babies. Two little people who are going to depend on us, for everything."

"I know."

"It's scary, but it's exciting."

"Exciting?"

"Because I get to do it with you."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know where we're going, or how we're going to get there, but when I'm with you, it doesn't seem to matter."

"Even if we get lost?"

"We have gotten lost a time or two, and things just get more interesting."

"How can you say that?"

"Because I love you."

"That's good, because I am completely..."

"Terrified?"

"I have no idea what I'm doing, and they haven't even gotten here yet."

"How do you feel about shotgun weddings?"

"I have mixed feelings about them."

"Do you actually know what a shotgun wedding is?"

"Yes, I do."

"Ziva?"

"Huh?"

"Have you spoken to your father lately?"

"No, why?"

"So then he doesn't know?"

"Know what?"

"That you're pregnant?"

"No."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"I hadn't given it much thought."

"You hadn't given it much thought? He's your father. No matter how strained your relationship is, he should still know."

"Should I take that to mean that you have told your father, then?"

"No. That's different."

"How, is that any different?"

"It just is," Tony argues.

"I'll make you a deal, I will tell your father, and you can tell mine."

"I feel like I am getting the short end of that stick."

"Why?"

"_A_, my father likes you, and _B_ your father has lots of weapons that could kill me, which he probably will, because he already hates me."

"He doesn't hate you."

"He certainly doesn't like me."

"Why do you care?"

"I got you pregnant. We're not married. I can't imagine that is going to make him particularly happy."

"He doesn't care much for tradition."

"No, but fathers have dreams for their daughters."

"What do you know about that?"

"I'm having one, and if some guy came up to me, and told me that he got her pregnant, I would probably strangle him."

"Why?"

"I want her to have the fairy tale," he admits.

"I see. You don't have to tell him in person. I won't make you go to Israel, just call, and tell him, on the phone."

"Ziva, I don't like this."

She smiles, and hands him the phone. He puts it to his ear, and listens as it rings. After several moments someone on the other end answers.

"Shalom?"

"Eli, it's Tony DiNozzo."

"Why are you calling from Ziva's phone? Is something wrong? Did something happen to her?"

"No, she just asked me to call you."


	21. Normal

"Why would she want you to call me?"

"She wanted me to tell you something."

"Is there some reason that she can't tell me herself?"

"No, there isn't. She is perfectly capable of telling you herself."

"So then why are you telling me?"

"Have you ever tried to tell her no?"

"I have."

"Did it end well, for you?"

"No. It is difficult to tell her no. I guess I see your point. Now what is it that you have to tell me?"

"It's good news."

"Good news? What kind of good news?"

"She's pregnant."

"Pregnant?"

"With twins," Tony adds.

"I didn't know that she was involved with anyone."

"Are you spying on her again?"

"No. I just thought that I would know, if she..."

"It's complicated."

"Did she get married?"

"No."

"Oh," his tone changes, "Tell me who the father is."

"So you can kill him?"

"Maybe. There is a father, isn't there?"

"What do you mean?"

"She didn't go get..."

"No. It happened the old fashioned way."

"So who is the father?"

"Are you going to kill him?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"What his intentions are. Is he going to marry her?"

"I don't know."

"Why not? You're her partner, shouldn't you know that."

"I don't know if she wants to get married."

"Does she love him? Are you with her now?"

"Yes."

"Why? It's eleven o'clock at night, there? Will you put her on the phone?"

Tony nods, and hands the phone to Ziva. She sighs, and puts it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Tony tells me that you're pregnant."

"Yes."

"With twins?"

"Yes."

"And the father? Is he in the picture?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to marry him?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"I do not know. One day."

"One day? Do you love him?"

"Yes. Why are you asking?"

"Because I want to know."

"You cannot kill him."

"I wasn't..."

"Leave him alone," she warns.

"Who is it? Where is he? Shouldn't you be with him right now, instead of your partner? Are you at work?"

"No, I'm not at work. I am at home."

"With your partner?"

"Yes."

"What are you going with your partner, at home, at eleven o'clock at night?"

"We're getting ready to go to sleep," she admits.

"Excuse me?"

"Tony is the father."

"Oh."

"Oh? That's all you have to say?"

"He's not Jewish."

"No, he's not. Does that mean you are going to disown me?"

"No. I had just pictured something else for you."

"And what would that be, exactly?"

"That when the time came you would settle down, with a nice Jewish..."

She cuts him off, "Don't finish that sentence."

"Doctor," he finishes.

"That is not what I want. It never has been."

"You have made that very clear. You have never been anything that I expected you to be."

"I am sorry to disappoint you."

"I am not disappointed. I am glad that you are the person you are."

"I should go, I have to be at work in the morning."

"Ziva?"

"Yes?"

"He's not what I wanted for you."

"I know."

"But he is a good man."

"I know that."

"He really loves you, don't let him go."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Eli hangs up.

Tony looks over at her, "So he'll by Tuesday to kill me?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Sooner?"

"No, I think that he is ok with it."

"Ok? I doubt that," he argues.

"He seemed... different."

"Normal?"

"As normal as he can be."

She settles into the bed. She turns off the light, and finds herself wrapped in his arms. He was her safe place. It didn't matter where she was in the world, he was home.

He breathes in the scent of her hair, as her breathing slows. He would gladly die, at the hand of Eli, if it meant that she could have what she had always wanted. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her, because she was the only person in the world, that had ever really mattered.


	22. Same Old Song And Dance

He leaves the bathroom, and makes his way to the kitchen. He finds Ziva sitting at the table, with the phone against her ear.

"Who are you talking to?"

She flaps her hand. He rolls his eyes, and pours himself a cup of coffee.

"Hello?"

Tony sits down, attempting to listen to her conversation.

"Yes, it's me. I was calling, because there is something that I thought you should know."

"Who are you talking to?"

She shoots him a look.

"Put it on speaker," he begs.

"Can you hold on a second? Your son wants me to put it on speaker." She puts the phone on the table, and flips it to speaker phone.

"So, Ziva? What is it that you wanted to tell me?"

"There's something that Tony wanted you to know."

"That he doesn't know how to use a telephone, so you are calling me for him."

"What do you mean?"

"I haven't spoken to Jr. in months."

"He's been busy."

"You're with him now?"

"Yes," she answers.

"Isn't it a little to be at work?"

"We're not at work," she reveals.

"Isn't a little early in the day, to be together?"

She smiles, "No, not really."

"What's going on?"

"Tony, and I... we..."

"You just referred to the two of you as we? What is going on? Are the two of you together."

Before Ziva can react Tony answers, "Yes."

"Yes? When did that happen?"

"It's been a work in progress," Tony admits.

"Six years is more than a work in progress," Sr. reminds.

"It's been months, not years," Tony responds.

"Oh, I would have thought otherwise. I mean the way you two act around each other, I just assumed that you had feelings for each other. I just figured both of you were too stubborn to admit that, and that's why you weren't together. So what brought you together?"

Tony tries to formulate an answer, but Ziva responds, before he can, "I think you should know the truth."

"The truth? What's that?"

"I'm pregnant. That is why we're together now."

"You're pregnant? With Jr.'s baby?"

"Not exactly."

"It's not his."

"They are definitely his."

"They?"

"We're having twins."

"Yeah, but, Ziva, that's not why we're together."

"It's not?" she raises an eyebrow.

"No," he shakes his head.

"I don't remember us being together beforehand."

"We weren't."

"But we are not."

"But I'm not with you, because you're pregnant."

"Really? I thought that's why we were together."

"That's not a good enough reason, especially considering how it happened."

"Being pregnant with your babies, is not a good enough reason to be together?"

"Maybe, for some people."

"If you don't want to be with me, then why are you here?"

"I never said I didn't want to be with you. I just said that we're not together, because you're pregnant."

"That seems like the reason to me," her voice begins to raise.

"I will admit, that is why we initially got together. I mean..."

"You are with me out of obligation?"

"No. I'm not with you out of obligation. I'm not with you because you're pregnant."

"Then why are you with me?" she shouts.

"Because I love you."

"Oh," she says quietly.

A voice interrupts their conversation, "Why don't the two of you call me back? We'll work out a time to have dinner sometime. I think the two of you have some things to work out."

"Goodbye," DiNozzo hangs up the phone.

Ziva stares across the table, at him.

"What?" he snarls.

"Nothing," she shakes her head.

"If you have something to say, then say it."

"I wouldn't want to be with you, if you were just here, because I'm pregnant."

"I know."

"What are we saying?"

"I think that it's time we admit it."

"Admit what?"

"We're a couple."

"A couple? A couple of what?"

"A couple of people who love each other, and want to be together, and are having two babies together."

"Tony?"

"Huh?"

She looks at her watch, "We need to go. Unless you want Gibbs to kill us."

"He can't kill you. He'll just kill me."

"I would prefer that he refrained from killing either of us, so we should leave now, so we're not late."

"Right," he nods.

She pushes her chair away from the table. She grabs her stuff, and heads for the door. She turns around, and finds him still sipping his cup of coffee.

"Now!" she barks.

"I haven't finished my coffee."

"Then bring it with you."

"Fine," he grumbles.


	23. Reprimand

They walk into the squad room, together. McGee looks at Tony.

"What McGee?" Tony growls.

"Did you have an accident?"

"If you are referring to the stain on my pants, it was Ziva's fault."

"It was not my fault," she argues.

"Ziva made you pee yourself?"

"It's not pee," he reveals.

"Oh, gross," McGee's mind falls into the gutter.

"McGee, it's just coffee," Ziva reveals.

"Oh. Tony, why are you wearing your coffee? Isn't it a little early in the day for that?"

"Why don't you ask Ziva, what happened."

"Ok. What happened?"

Ziva rolls her eyes. "Well, McGee. Apparently Tony is a child, and needs at sippy cup, so he doesn't spill on himself."

"That is not the story, Zee-vah," Tony disagrees.

"Well I'd love to hear your version," Ziva responds.

"We were on our way here, and I let Ziva drive."

"Let me? You let me drive my own car?"

Tony corrects himself, "I wanted to finish my coffee, so Ziva drove. Everything was going fine. She was driving as a maniac, as usual, but... it wasn't a big deal. Until, she whipped down a side street, to avoid traffic. Then she hit a pothole, the size of this building. I'm actually surprised we didn't fall into it, and get lost forever. Anyway, when she hit the hole the mug fell onto my lap, and poured hot coffee onto my lap," he rambles.

"You are the one who nearly made us late for work," she argues.

"Well we made it on time. But now that I have third degree burns, on..."

Gibbs walks in and shoot him a look, "Stop there, I don't want to hear the rest."

Tony nods, "Yes boss."

Leon starts down the stairs. When he reaches the landing, behind Tony's desk, he stops. He looks at Tony, for a brief moment, but he then casts his glance onto Ziva. He clears his throat.

"Agent David. I need to see you in my office, now."

She nods, and walks out, from behind her desk. She slowly makes her way, up the stairs. She follows the director into his office. He takes a seat, at his desk. He looks up at her.

"Close the door," he instructs.

She closes the door behind her, and stands in front of his desk.

"Have a seat."

"I would prefer to stand," she admits.

"It wasn't really a request."

"I know," she smiles, defiantly, refusing to sit. "What do you need?"

"I want to talk to you."

"About what, exactly?"

"I think that you know what," he counters.

"Director Vance, I am not a mind reader."

"Agent, David..."

"Yes?"

"It has come to my attention that there is something different about you, lately."

"Your point?"

"Rumor has it, that you're pregnant."

"And when did you start being concerned with rumors?"

"It's my job to be concerned. You're an agent who goes out into the field. I don't want to risk putting you in harms way, if you're pregnant."

"Don't pretend it's because you care, because I think that we both know, it's not. You just don't want to be made to look like a fool. You hate looking bad."

"Maybe that's true."

"And?"

"Are you pregnant?"

"I don't really think that is important."

"You don't? It would greatly affect your job."

"I don't think so," she argues.

"Agent David, I am looking for a yes, or no answer. Are you pregnant."

"No, I am not going to discuss that with you."

"You're trying my patience here."

"Why is it of any importance to you, if I am or not?"

"You know why."

"Why don't you ask Agent Gibbs."

"I am asking you."

"And I am telling you, at least I am trying, to tell you, politely, that it is none of your business."

"Are you trying to get suspended."

"For what, exactly?"

"Insubordination."

"Do you think that I am afraid of being suspended?"

"Unpaid suspension, indefinitely."

"You won't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because if you do, then it makes you look like an ass, if I am pregnant. I believe that it would be grounds for..."

He cuts her off, "You've made your point. Now let me make mine. If you want to continue your job here, you will tell me the truth."

"I do not see why it matters."

"You don't? If you're pregnant and you go out into the field you could be putting your life in danger. Not just your life."

"Do you really think that I am reckless enough, to do something stupid enough, to get hurt? Or killed?"

"I don't think that you're stupid, but you have been known to be impulsive."

She pulls out her gun, and badge. "Do you want this?"

"Don't tempt me."

"What do you want to hear director?"

"Just answer my question, damn-it."

"I'm pregnant, with twins."

"Now you're just yanking my chain. You're telling me what you think I want to hear. That just pisses me off."

"Am I?"

"Agent David, don't play games with me."

"The only one who is playing games, is you. And quite frankly, I think that we're all sick of it. I don't know what you're agenda is, but..."

"I don't have an agenda."

"Now who's telling someone what they think they want to hear?" She storms out of his office, slamming the door behind her.


	24. Bribery, And Blessings

"Where is Ziva?" McGee questions.

"She's testifying in court, why?"

"Then he's probably here to see you."

"Who?"

McGee points. Tony looks up from his desk, and finds Eli walking towards him. He stops in front of his desk. His lips curl into a reptilian smile.

"What are you doing here?" Tony questions.

"I was just in the neighborhood, and I thought that I would stop by."

"I might believe you, if your neighborhood wasn't a solid thirteen hours away."

"I thought you and I could have a little chat."

"A little chat? That couldn't take place over the phone."

"Don't worry, I'm not here on business. I'm here on pleasure."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

"And why is that?"

"Because I think that it would give you great pleasure to make me disappear."

"No, no. I am not here to hurt you, or to make you disappear. I am just here to have a little chat with you."

"What kind of little chat?"

"You know, I only have one daughter. I only have one child, left. That is Ziva."

"Yes, I know that."

"So as her father, it is my duty to do everything in my power to protect her."

"Since when?"

"I will admit I have not always done the best job."

"Especially considering that you threw her in harms way, at the drop of the hat."

"Ziva can take care of herself."

"If you know that, then why are you here?"

"I want to make sure that I don't have to protect her from you."

"If anything, I am the one who needs to protect her, from you."

"Why don't I buy you lunch, and we can finish our chat?"

"She told you that I can easily be bribed, didn't she?"

"She may have mentioned that you tend to think better, when your stomach is running on full."

He swallows a bite, and then takes a drink. He looks at Eli. He couldn't believe it. He was sitting down with the devil, for a meal. And he was letting the devil pay. That couldn't end well, could it. It was like making a deal with the devil. But he had to play nice, for Ziva's sake. He was her father, and...

"So are you ready to talk now?" Eli questions.

"Eli, to be honest, I'm not sure what there is to talk about."

"It's pretty simple, actually. If you hurt my daughter, you die."

"Where was all of your concern with the other men that have been in her life? You should know that I am the last person on this earth who would ever hurt her."

"I know how you feel about her. I also know that things happen, and you can't always control them. If you hurt her I will kill you.""I would never hurt her."

"I said the same thing about her mother. I swore that I would never hurt her, but... I did things that hurt her. I ruined our marriage, and I tore our family apart. I didn't have to lay a finger on her, to hurt her. And that is the thing, sometimes you don't even know that you're doing it."

"I am not going to hurt her, and I'm not going to leave her. No matter what you say, or how much you hate it. I don't care how much you try to intimidate me, I am not going anywhere."

"What makes you think that I am would try to intimidate you?"

"Past actions?" he shrugs.

"Fair enough. I haven't always made the best choices regarding Ziva. I have made many mistakes. I don't wish for this to be one of them. I want her to be happy."

"Good. Wait... are you saying you don't think she should be with me?"

"I don't like that she's with you. I would prefer she had chosen someone else."

"Someone better?"

"Perhaps, but the bottom line is, that you make her happy. I am not sure how, but for some reason you seem to make her happy, and that's all that matters."

"Oh."

"I didn't come here to scare you."

"You didn't?"

"No. I came here to give you my blessing."

"To do what?"

"Whatever it is, that you see fit."

"We still have a lot of things to figure out. I mean... we're going to be getting a crash course in parenting soon. A double dose of it."

"Are you scared?"

"Of what?"

"Screwing up?"

"Were you?"

"No, and that was my first mistake."

"Your second?"

"Choosing work over my family. I remember the day Ziva was born. I had this newborn baby in my arms, and she was perfect. She was a beautiful little baby girl, and then I got a phone call. I got a call, and I gave her to her mother, and went back to work. The world wouldn't have ended if I had stayed longer. It could have waited, for an hour or two. The thing is, you never get that time back. Children grow up, and you can never get their childhood back. You can't fix the mistakes you made with them, you just have to learn how to deal with them."

"My life has been my job for so long. My personal life has suffered, but I'm not willing to make that sacrifice anymore. I love your daughter."

"I know," Eli smiles.

"She deserves to have a family of her own."

"I agree."

"You want me to marry her?"

"I never said that."

"You don't want her to..."

"What I want for her, doesn't matter. What she wants for herself, that is what matters."

"So you don't care if we get married?"

"You have my blessing if that is what the two of you want."

"And if we don't?"

"You have my blessing then, too."

"Are you on something, I have to ask because..."

Eli cuts him off, "It's called reality."

"You're just different than before."

"You are used to seeing me as Eli David, director of Mossad. Today you are seeing me as Eli David, Ziva's father. There is a difference. I haven't always been able to switch hats so easily, but the older I get the more I realize what is really important. I have lost my wife, two of my children, and Ziva is all that I have left."

"I understand."

"I am not trying to pressure you, but," he reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a box, "if you do want to ask Ziva to marry you, then you should have this," he slides the box across the table to Tony.

Tony looks at Eli for a moment, and then opens the box. He finds an engagement ring inside.

"It was Ziva's grandmother's, my mother. She wanted Ziva to have it, if she wanted it, when she got married."

"I don't know what to say."

Eli smiles, "Just don't screw it up," he warns.


	25. If I Had It My Way

She stares at him, as they drive. He feels her eyes burning a hole through him.

"What?"

"Where are we going? I thought we were going home."

"I thought we could go to dinner, first."

"Why?"

"Can't I just take you to dinner?"

"You can, but I'm tired and I just want to go home."

"Please."

"Tony..."

"Ok," he turns around.

"Why do you want to go to dinner, anyway?"

"I thought that we could talk about our days."

"We don't have to go to dinner to do that. We can go home, and do that."

"I don't think that you're even interested in how my day went."

"How did your day go?" she questions.

"It was a little bit peculiar."

"Peculiar how?"

"I talked to your dad."

"He called you?"

"No."

"You called him?"

"No."

"You skyped?"

"No. I talked to him, in person."

"Talked to him, in person. I don't understand."

"He showed up out of the blue."

"Why?"

"To talk to me. He even bought me lunch."

"What did he want?"

"I think he was trying to bribe me."

"Into doing what?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Obviously it didn't work."

"I wouldn't be so sure," he argues.

"Not to change the subject, but do you have an chap stick?"

"There is some in the console," as soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it. He keeps his elbow resting on the console so she can't open it.

"Move your arm."

"No."

"You don't want to share your chap stick? You'll share your sperm, but not your chap stick?"

"You should get your own."

"I have my own, and you washed it, the last time you did laundry."

"Which is why I don't do laundry."

"Move your elbow."

"Can't you wait until we get home?"

"Yes, I can wait fifteen seconds, but why do you want me to?"

"I'll get it for you," he tells her as he pulls into a parking spot.

"Get it for me? Why? What are you hiding?"

He puts the car in park, and takes the keys from the ignition. She takes this opportunity to open the console. She freezes. She looks inside, and then looks at him.

"What is that?" she points to the box.

"I told you not to open it," he reaches inside, and pulls out the chap stick. He hands it to her. "Here," he closes the console.

She refuses to take the chap stick. "What is in there?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. I don't like you hiding things from me."

"Ziva, please, just let it go."

"Tell me what it is, and I'll let it go."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll want it. I don't want to give it to you, not tonight. Not like this. I had it all planned out. This wasn't what my plan was."

"What are you talking about?" She opens the console, and takes out the box. She holds it up, in front of him.

"What is in here?"

"What do you think?"

"Some sort of jewelry, obviously."

"Yes."

"What kind?"

"You can open it, and see, but I wouldn't recommend it. I think it would better for you to be surprised."

"Surprised? I already know that you have it. Why would I be surprised?"

"I had something special planned."

"Why are you buying me jewelry, anyway? I rarely wear it. You do not enjoy picking it out. What kind of jewelry is it?"

"The only kind that I would ever give you."

"Fake?" she guesses.

"No," he shakes his head.

"What is it?"

"It doesn't matter. I didn't buy it, anyway."

"You stole it?"

"No," he shakes his head.

"What's the other option?"

"Someone gave it to me."

She furrows her brow, "Who gave it to you?"

"Your father gave it to me."

"To give to me? I don't understand."

"I think you should have it. I want you to have it."

"I still don't understand."

"Just open it, and you will."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he nods.

She flips it open. She stares at the ring, and then at Tony. "He gave you this? To give to me? Do you know what this is?"

"It's your grandmother's ring."

"He should not have given this to you."

"You don't want it?"

"He shouldn't try to push you into something, that you don't want to do, by making you feel guilty."

"Is that what you think? I don't feel guilty. I wanted to give it to you. Why do you think I was trying to take you to dinner? I was trying to be romantic, not that I'm very good at it."

"You want to give it to me?"

"Yes."

"For what?"

"What do you mean, for what? It's an engagement ring."

"I know what it is, but why would you give it to me?"

"So you could use it as an engagement ring."

"To who?"

"Me."

"When?"

"Now."

"Now? You really want to get married?"

"Yes."

"I don't believe you. I think that my father tried to push you into this."

"He didn't. I wanted this. I have wanted this for a while, but I was afraid. I didn't want to do anything to jeopardize your relationship with your father, it is already rocky enough, as it is. Then today I was sitting there having lunch with him, and he was like I had never seen him. He was genuine, and candid. When he said that we had his blessing, I felt relieved. It was one battle I wasn't going to have to fight. I have fought hard enough for this. I have fought long enough, to have you. I didn't want to have to fight him, for you."

"He gave you his blessing?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes."

"Call him and ask him, if you don't believe me."

"You really want to give this to me?"

"If I asked you to marry me, what would you say?"

"I don't know. Maybe you should ask."

"If I had it my way we'd be somewhere far more romantic than your car. And I'd be down on one knee. Then I'd ask you if you would like to marry me, and be my wife, for the rest of forever."


	26. Complicated

"I do not need to be married, to be happy. You understand that, right?"

"Yes."

"I do not expect you to marry me."

"I know that."

"I know that I am pregnant, but I don't expect you to commit the rest of your life to me."

"I know."

"I know I am having your babies, but... you didn't sign up for this. It was an accident."

"Ziva..." he trails off, in frustration.

"What?"

"I want to marry you, because I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I never expected this to happen. I didn't really think that you would get pregnant. I never thought that I would want to marry you, or anyone, for that matter. My feelings for you haven't changed, because you're pregnant. I feel the same way that I did, before all of this happened."

"I don't believe you."

"Why not?"

"You never did anything, you never said anything."

"I waited. Maybe I waited too long."

"What changed?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I saw an opportunity, and I took it."

"What are you talking about?"

"You told me that you wanted a baby. I thought that if you had my baby, I could never lose you. Maybe you would end up with someone else, but we would always be tied together. We would have a child together, and no matter what we would always have to be in each other's lives."

"You wanted me to have your baby, all along?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I love you. I didn't know how to say that. I didn't know how to make you believe me."

"So you chose to impregnate me, instead?"

"I guess."

"That is completely insane."

"I never claimed that I wasn't."

"And now you want me to marry you?"

"Yes. I want you to marry me. I love you."

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?"

"Did what?"

"Got me pregnant."

"I don't understand the question. You were trying to get pregnant."

"You have never gotten anyone pregnant before. Obviously, you know how to prevent it."

"So do you," he counters.

"You're blaming me for this?"

"I am not blaming anyone. I am just saying..."

She cuts him off, "You are just saying what?"

"This happened, because we wanted it to happen. We both wanted this."

"But..."

"You knew that I would volunteer."

"I did not. How could I have known that?"

"Because you know me."

"I know how jealous you are."

"You thought that you would scare me away."

"I had hoped."

"Why?"

"Because anyone who gets to close always ends up dead."

"I am not going to end up dead."

"I thought that if I came up with something that crazy, you would back down. I hoped that you would give up."

"But I didn't. Do you even want a baby? Did you want a baby?"

"Yes."

"My baby?"

"You didn't see me ask anyone else, did you."

"I can only assume that you didn't."

"I can assure you, I did not."

"Why not?"

"Because I could never picture anyone else as the father to my child."

"You loved me, too?"

"I..." she trails off.

"It's ok."

"Yes."

"So then marry me."

"Why?"

"Because I love you. You love me. We are completely insane. We go about things completely wrong. We do things out of sequence. We have a hard time admitting our feelings. But most of all, we'd be lost without each other."

"I don't know if that's good enough."

"Marry me. Please."

"I..."

"You're afraid?"

"I am afraid that things won't work out. We are having two babies. Do you know how stressful that is? Not to mention, we're going to have to move. More stress. Work, that is even more stress."

"You're afraid that we're going to crack, under all the pressure?"

"I don't want to lose you."

"You're never going to lose me."

"What if we get married, and neither of us can make it work."

"We'll make it work."

"How?"

"I don't know how."

"Why?"

"We have to. We are going to have two children that count on us. And, I love you."

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"I'll marry you," she agrees.

He slips her grandmother's ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly. That was the thing about them. The puzzle pieces of their lives were misshapen. They wouldn't fit anywhere else. Together though, they were a perfect fit, no matter how different they were.


	27. No Such Thing As Perfection

_A/N: So I thought that I might be done with this story, but... I'm not. I am planning on writing a few more chaps. Please be patient, because I can't update as fast since I am in school for the summer. I promise to get this finished in the next few months. _

* * *

She's lying in bed, next to him. Her hand rests on her stomach. The moon light makes the rock on her ring finger sparkle. He sighs.

"Zi, go to sleep."

"I..."

"Take the ring off, and go to sleep. You don't have to do that every night," he insists.

She slips the ring off, and places it on the bedside stand next to her. He rolls towards her, and places his arm around her.

"Don't," she growls.

"What's wrong? Why can't I put my arm around you?"

"You're making me hot."

"It's like twelve degrees in here."

"I'm hot, don't touch me."

"I'm sorry. I'll roll over."

"You don't have to roll over. Just stay on your side of the bed."

"Ziva I love you, but sometimes you're impossible."

"You're the one who wants to get married.""If you don't want to, it's not to late to change your mind."

"I didn't say that I wanted to change my mind," she admits.

"You're sure about this?"

"Yes. I have told you a million times I am not going to change my mind. I tell you this every single day."

"Then why are you using that tone of voice?"

"What tone of voice?"

"Something is bothering, what is it?"

"I feel like something is going to go wrong."

"What do you think is going to go wrong?"

"I don't know."

"You don't like perfection."

"There is no such thing as perfection," she reminds him.

"I think that this is pretty close."

"Maybe."

"I guess it will be even more perfect when we have two healthy, little babies."

"There is no such thing as perfect."

"Why are you so against perfect?"

"There will always be something to screw it up."

"Ziva, nothing is going to happen, just go to sleep, ok?"

"Ok," she agrees.

He wakes up hours later. He rolls over, into a puddle. He flips on the light. He pulls back the covers. He stares at his hands, and at the bed. He hops up, and runs to the other side of the bed.

"Ziva!"

She doesn't respond.

"Ziva, wake up! Now."

Her eyes pop open.

"What?" she looks at the clock, on the bedside stand, "It's three thirty in the morning. Go back to sleep."

"Ziva you need to get up."

"I don't want to get up. I don't feel good."

"I know, you need to get up."

"Why? Why are you looking at me like that? What's wrong."

"Come on, Ziva. You need to get up."

"Why?"

"Ziva don't argue. Come on. We need to get you to the hospital."

"The hospital? What is going on."

He leans down, he gently lifts her out of the bed.

"Listen to me, just close your eyes. I'm going take you to the hospital."

"Close my eyes? I don't understand."

"Please just listen to me, for once."

"Why are you panicking?"

He turns, to carry her out of the room. She notices the stain on the bed. He grabs a pile of towels out of the bathroom, and carries her out of the apartment, to the car. When he arrives at the hospital she's lost consciousness.

4 hours later: He sits in a chair, in a hospital room. His eyes flit between the monitors, and Ziva. She lies in the hospital bed. She looks pale, and lifeless. He squeezes her hand. She squeezes back. Her eyes flutter open.

"Why am I here?"

"I brought you here," he reveals.

"That doesn't answer my question. What time is it?"

"About eight o'clock. You've been unconscious for a while."

"Why? What happened?"

"You lost a lot of blood."

She flashes back, to their bedroom, to their bed.

"What happened?"

"I..." he trails off. He avoids eye contact.

"Why won't you tell me what happened?"

"It isn't that I won't."

"Then what is it?"

"I just don't know how," he admits.

"Just tell me," she begs.

"I don't know where to start," he adds.

"At the beginning."

"The important thing is that you're ok."

"I do not like the way that sounds. That does not inspire confidence."

"I love you."

"Just tell me. What happened?"

"You were bleeding, a lot."

"I know."

"You have placenta previa."

"I know that."

"I didn't know that. Why didn't you tell me? It can be a serious complication."

"I didn't want to worry you."

"You should have told me."

"Tell me..."

"The bleeding was caused by preterm labor."

"Labor? What are you talking about? It's too early for me to go into labor. I am not due for ten weeks."

"I know."

"Did they stop the labor?"

"They are trying."

"What do you mean, they are trying?"

"You're still having contractions. They managed to slow down the bleeding but..."

"But?"

"They might have to deliver the babies, if they can't stop the contractions. If they can't stop the bleeding, they will have to do it sooner, rather than later. They don't want you to go into shock."

"Are they ok?"

He doesn't answer.

"Are they both ok?"

"They've been monitoring their heart rates very closely. They are concerned that they are under too much stress."

"What does that mean?""We may end up meeting them a lot sooner, than we expected."

"How soon?"

"Before the end of the day."


	28. Chance Are

Her brow furrows, and she looks at him in confusion. He takes her hand , and kisses the back of it, as if to promise that everything will work out. She stares back with eyes that say she doesn't believe him. She swallows hard, choking back the tears.

"Say something," he begs.

"What am I supposed to say?"

"Whatever comes to mind."

"I am..." she trails off.

"It is ok to say it," he reminds her.

"I am scared."

"I know."

"How can you be so calm? Aren't you scared?"

"Of course I am."

"Then why aren't you freaking out? It is too soon for them to come. It is my fault. This is all my fault. What if something happens? What if they don't make it. That would all be my fault. I do not know that I could live with that. I know that you would not be able to forgive me, if that happened."

"This is not your fault."

"Yes it is."

"What makes you say that?"

"I should listen to you more often."

"What do you mean?"

"I should have let you come last time, instead of insisting that I didn't need you there."

"Last time?"

"My last doctor's appointment. I know that I told you didn't have to come. I know that you wanted to come, even though you were in the middle of an interrogation. I..."

"You what?"

"I wanted you there."

"Why couldn't you just say that? I wanted to be there. I didn't understand why you didn't want me to be there."

"I did, but I don't want you to have to choose. I never want to make you choose the job your love, or..."

He cuts her off, "I will always choose you. I will always choose them. I love my job. I have dedicated a lot of time to it. I have made a lot of sacrifices for it. It is just a job, it is not my whole life. I don't know why you think I am sacrificing anything. I want to be there with you, at every appointment."

"I am sorry.""What do you have to be sorry for?"

"This is my fault. I will understand if you hate me for it."

"For what?"

"Earlier this week the doctor told me that I should be on bed-rest. I should have listened. I thought that since I was on desk duty it wouldn't make much difference. Aside from making trips to the copier, and the bathroom, I don't do much. I should have listened. I could have stopped this from happening. Now..."

"Ziva," he squeezes her hand, "Look at me."

She turns her head to look at him. He makes sure that he has his full attention, before he continues. "Everything is going to work out," he promises.

"You don't know that. You cannot make me that promise."

"I don't know what the right thing is to say, here."

"There is no right thing."

"I love you," he reminds her.

"That doesn't change things."

"Let's just worry about things, as they happen, ok?"

She nods. She tries to remain calm. She tries to rid her mind of the terrible thoughts. He watches her, trying to figure out what to say, or do next. His train of thought is interrupted by a nurse rushing into the room. She races past them. She immediately looks at the monitor. She looks at Tony, and then to Ziva, with alarm on her face.

"What's wrong?" Tony questions.

"The baby's heart rate is dropping. I am going to go get the doctor. We are going to have to do an emergency c-section."

"Now?" Ziva inquires.

"Yes, now," the nurse nods, as she heads for the door.

Tony finds himself sitting on a stool, in the O.R. Ziva slowly slips out of consciousness. To get the babies out quickly, she is put under. He holds her hand, as they begin to cut, on the other side of the curtain. He watches in silence, as the personnel in the room focuses on the doctor, as she cuts. Three minutes later she lifts a tiny baby out of Ziva's uterus. She holds the baby up for Tony to see.

"A girl," the doctor announces, as the nurse whisks her over to an incubator.

The twenty seconds it takes for her to cry seems like an eternity, to him. He sighs in relief, as she wails. He moves from his stool, over to the incubator. He snaps pictures, with the camera that he usually uses for crime scene photos. The tiny little girl grows pinker with each passing moment. She cries as he snaps the pictures.

"We rarely see lungs like this on a baby of this gestation," the nurse tells him.

"Is that a good thing?"

"The fact that she is crying, and breathing on her own, is a great thing. The next twenty four hours will still be critical, but it is a promising sign."

He is too busy talking to the nurse, and marveling over his new daughter to notice the doctor lift out the second baby. There is no cry from baby B as the nurse moves him to the incubator. Tony notices movement from the second neonatal team, out of the corner of his eye. He turns, and watches in horror as they attempt to get the baby to breathe. His sense of joy, and pride, begin to diminish, with each passing moment.

He stands frozen, as they attempt to revive the tiny baby boy. He is a greyish blue. The nurses, and the neonatologist work furiously to get the baby to breathe. Tony watches the seconds tick by on the clock. Each tick seems like an eternity. After an entire minute, with no success, the nurse with baby A, taps Tony on the shoulder. She forces a smile. He redirects his attention to the pink baby, in front of him.

"I'm going to take her down to the NICU, you should come with me."

"Ok," he nods.

He follows her out of the OR. A team of other people follow behind them. They load onto the elevator, and head to the NICU. When they arrive she points Tony to a seat, towards the corner of the room.

"Give us a few minutes to do our assessment on her. If her breathing remains stable, then you can hold her. How does that sound?"

"I should get to hold two babies, not just one."

"I will move as fast as I can, so that you can hold her soon, ok?"

"Ok," he sinks into the rocking chair.

She assesses the baby, and uses an ink pad to collect footprints. She puts a nasal canula, on the little girl. She wraps her up, and moves towards Tony.

"We'll have to put her back in the warmer, to make sure that she maintains her temperature, but you can hold her for a minute, if you'd like."

"Ok," he agrees as she slips the tiny baby girl into his arms.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Why is she wearing oxygen?"

"Her pulse ox was a little low."

"But she's breathing on her own?"

"Yes," she nods.

"How much does she weigh?"

"Three pounds, ten ounces. Seventeen inches long."

"She's so tiny," he remarks as he stares at the face of his newborn daughter. He looks up at the nurse, and gently returns the newborn to her. She smiles, and places the baby girl back into the incubator.


	29. Fragile

On the first floor of the hospital, two floors below him, a different scene unfolds. He sits in the NICU, on the third floor, watching as his baby daughter sleeps, peacefully. He watches diligently, as her chest rises, and falls. He breathes a sigh of relief, with each breath that she takes. In her nose is oxygen, and even though the doctor insists that the next twenty four hours are critical, he can tell from one look at her, that she's like her mother. Through blood, sweat, and tears, she would be ok. She was a fighter, she wasn't ready to let go, anytime soon.

The young nurse swallows hard. She had barely been out of school for a year. She had only been working there for nine months. She never knew if she was doing enough, but the other nurses saw something in her. It wasn't just the passion for the job, or her genuinely caring manner, it was instinct. She checks the strip on Ziva's forehead. She glances at the monitor. She notices the blood pressure dip slightly. She looks at the doctor, who is focused on closing the abdomen.

"She's going into shock," the young nurse announces to the room.

The doctor looks up for a brief moment, at the monitor. He reads the numbers and shakes his head.

"Her blood pressure is normal."

"It is going down."

"Not enough to worry about shock," he retorts, returning to the task at hand.

She walks over to IV pole, where a bag of blood is hanging, ready to go, if needed. She moves over to a desk, where the circulating nurse sits. She looks at her, through a face mask.

"How many more units of blood are available, for her?"

"Three."

"Get them up here. You heard the doctor, she isn't going into shock."

Before the young nurse can reply monitors start to go off. The doctor looks up, as the finishes his suture. Another nurse, looks at him. She shakes her head.

"She's going into shock," before the words are out of her mouth the young nurse is connecting the unit of blood to Ziva's IV. The doctor looks at her in disbelief.

"How could you know?" he questions.

"I may just be a nurse, but I know what I'm doing. Her blood pressure hasn't fluctuated more than four millimeters of mercury the entire time."

"Good call, Hannah," the older nurse nods, in her direction.

On the other side of the room, the neonatalogist watches as chaos surrounds her. She looks at the nurse, on the other side of the incubator. As the doctor pumps air into the infant's lungs the nurse does compressions. The veteran nurse gives her a look. The nurse's eyes flit to the clock. The doctor takes a quick glance at her watch.

They all struggle to catch their breaths, as the chaos engulfs the room. One nurse injects a drug to increase Ziva's blood pressure, as another begins another unit of blood. The doctor rattles off orders. Someone monitors blood loss, carefully documenting each drop. The room is too small for the flurry of activity.

The tiny baby boy lies in an incubator. He looks cyanotic. He refuses to breathe. He has no pulse. He lies lifelessly, in an incubator, against the wall. The nurses hand ceases to move. The doctor nods, in agreement, and stops pumping. The nurse holds up her watch, for the doctor to see. The doctor presses her fingers against the baby's skin, checking for a pulse. She is about to call it, when she feels something. Without a word, the nurse reacts. She too, finds her fingers pressed against the baby's skin. She reaches for the baby's chest. Before she can touch him, they hear a gasp. He sucks in a breath. He slowly begins to go from blue, to grey. The doctor tilts the infant's head back, and inserts a breathing tube.

She feels groggy, as she begins to come back to consciousness. She blinks, trying to orient herself, to her surroundings. The room is dark, void for the light coming from the crack in the door, and the monitors by her bedside. She takes breath, and the pain shoots down her. He instantly notices the change in her breathing. He flips on the light. She blinks several times, trying to adjust her eyes to the light.

Finally everything comes into focus. She stares at Tony, as he sits in the chair next to her. He looks exhausted, an emotionally drained. He touches the back of her hand. She winces, suddenly realizing that it is sore. She quickly realizes that it is dark outside. She looks at him questioningly. He grabs the pitcher of water, by her bed, and hands it to her. She takes a sip, and the cotton feeling in her mouth subsides. She swallows, and finally is ready to speak.

"What time is it?"

"2130," he answers.

"I..."

"They had to give you general anesthesia, to put you under, so that they could get the babies out quickly. Apparently, you are incredibly sensitive to it."

"How are the babies?"

"Our little girl, is a lot like you. She's a little cuter. She's three pounds, and ten ounces of stubborn. She already has a definite personality. They have her on a little bit of oxygen. They have it in her nose, just so that her oxygen levels stay up. She is stable. She makes sure that everyone is aware of her needs. She cries when she's hungry, and needs a diaper change. They say that's a good sign. She does not like to be put down. Right now they have her under a blue light, because she has some jaundice. She has been looking for you, though. She wants to see you. That's about it," he finishes.

"We have two babies," she reminds him.

He doesn't say anything.

"Why haven't you said anything, about him?"

"I don't want to upset you."

"Just tell me," she begs, feeling herself going numb, before he can reveal anything. She tries to protect herself from the pain of what she is about to hear.

"He had a hard time breathing. They had to resuscitate him. They are pretty concerned. He's in critical condition. He has a breathing tube. They are concerned that if he does make it, what the outcome may be, long term. They are concerned that he may have permanent brain damage."

"What do you mean if?"

"Ziva he's so small. Three pounds. He won't breathe on his own."

"Did you see him?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And he looks fragile."

"I want to see them."

"You can't see them, right now."

"I want to see my babies."

"You can't go anywhere. You just had a major surgery. You had three units of blood. You are going to stay in that bed."

"I want my babies."

"I'll go talk to the NICU nurse, I'll see what I can do. I might be able, to figure out a way for you to see our little girl. That is the best I can do."

"That isn't good enough," she says sharply, out of frustration, without thinking.

"I know," he looks at her. She stares at him. He can tell by the look on her face that she is on the verge of tears. Her facial muscles tighten, in an attempt to stop the tears.

"It's going to be ok," he promises.

"Go get her, please," she begs, in a tiny, defeated voice.

"What do you want to name her?"

"Whatever you want."

"We agreed on Isabella," he reminds her.

"Whatever you want."

"She doesn't look like an Isabella."

"Call her whatever you want. Her name is the least important thing, right now."


	30. Falling Apart

The nurse smiles at him, understandingly. She makes a quick phone call. When she hangs up, her smile widens. She watches him, as he stands over his daughter's basinet, marveling at her. She vacates her seat, and walks over to him. She stops, in front of him.

"Good news, the doctor said that since she has been stable you can take her to the room, for up to a little while. You have to leave the oxygen on. Once the time is up, you have to bring her back, because she has to go back under the light. I'll come get her. Understood?"

"Is there anything I can do to keep her out from under this light?"

"Breastfeeding can help."

"I'll get right on that," he jokes.

He wheels the little girl into Ziva's room. She shifts in bed. He stops at her bedside, and carefully lifts the little girl out of the basinet. He places her against Ziva's chest. She scrutinizes the baby. The baby snuggles up to Ziva.

"Hi, pretty girl."

At the other end of the hospital, in the NICU, the nurse keeps a watchful eye on Tony, and Ziva's baby boy. She approaches the isolet. The breathing tube keeps his chest moving. It inflates his lungs with air. The probes on his chest monitor his heart rate. The nurse watches the waves. Suddenly it goes from a series of waves, to a flat line.

The nurse knocks on the door of the room.

"Come in," Tony answers.

She steps into the room. She looks at mom, and baby. She stops next to the bedside.

"I need to take her back to the nursery, now," she reveals.

"Ok," Ziva nods. She kisses the baby's head, and gently places her in the nurses arms.

The nurse puts the baby girl into the basinet, and takes her out of the room. Tony waits for her to leave, to begin speaking. He turns to Ziva.

"So, what do you think?"

"She's so tiny."

"She's beautiful," he adds.

"That too."

"You should get your rest," he suggests.

"How could I sleep, at a time like this?"

"I don't know."

"Will you go see how he's doing?"

"Of course," he nods in agreement.

He heads for the door. When he gets outside the room, a sense of dread comes over him. He tries to shake it, but the feeling follows him down the hall, to the NICU. He stops at the NICU doors. He opens the door, to the anteroom. There is a nurses station, and a small changing room, with protective clothing. A nurse comes out of the NICU. She looks at him.

"You can't go in there right now. We have a code in progress, and only necessary personnel are allowed in there."

"A code?"

"Yes, you will have to wait."

"Which baby is it?"

"I'm not sure. You should wait outside. One of us will come get you, when the code is over."

Another nurse comes out of the NICU. She looks at the first nurse.

"We need to go get the parents."

"Tell me the name, and I'll go get them," she answers.

"David."

Tony's heart sinks. He swallows hard. "No need. I'm right here. I'm his father."

The older nurse points to a chair, at the nurses station. He sinks into it. She forces a weak smile.

"Your son has gone into V-tach. It is a life threatening condition. We have been trying to get his heart back to a normal rhythm."

"For how long?"

"A while. Do you want us to continue you?"

"What are the chances of reviving him?"

"He went into v-tach in the delivery room, and we were able to get his rhythm back to normal."

"But?"

"We don't know what kind of damage he's going to have, if we can convert him to a normal rhythm."

"What is your hospital protocol, for time?"

"We will exceeded hospital protocol for time, five minutes ago. We usually go longer on children. Do you want us to keep going?"

"Be honest, do you think that you can get him back to a normal rhythm?"

"No, not at this point, but it is your decision."

"If I say keep going?"

"We keep shocking him."

"Until?"

"Someone in that room decides that we have done enough."

"Stop. I don't want him to suffer. Stop shocking him."

"Ok," she nods.

She returns to the NICU. She speaks to the doctor. The doctor nods. They stop trying to bring the baby back from the flat line. Tony watches through the window. He watches the line go flat. He sees the doctor say something to the nurse. She nods, and comes towards the door. She steps out of the NICU, and stops in front of Tony.

"She wants to know if you want us to take out the breathing tube?"

"Yes."

"I'll need you to sign these," she hands him a couple of papers, and a pen.

He signs them, and gives them back to her.

"You agree to take him off the ventilator, correct?"

"Yes," he nods, "You've done everything that you can."

She takes the forms, and goes back into the room. He watches as the doctor removes the tube from the baby. The baby gasps for air.

As the nurses stand around the baby, they feel relieved that the father can't hear what's going on in the room. The baby takes one final breath. They look at the monitors, at the baby, and at each other. The head nurse nods to the doctor. He pulls down his mask.

"Time?" He questions.

The nurse looks at the clock, behind him, "Twenty two forty three," he answers.

He nods, "Time of death, twenty two forty three."

Tony turns from the window. He leaves the room, and heads back down the hall. He feels himself moving slower, and slower, with each step. When he reaches Ziva's room, he can't find the strength to go in. He slides down the wall, outside her room, onto the floor. He looks up, only when he hears footsteps. He sees a familiar face.

"What are you doing out here?"

"I can't go in there. I can't face her."

"DiNozzo, what are you talking about?"

"Gibbs, I don't know how to tell her."

"Tell her what? What's something wrong?"

"Everything is wrong," he replies.


	31. Closure

"You want me to go with you?" Gibbs offers.

DiNozzo clenches his jaw, fighting off the tears. He simply nods.

"Come on," Gibbs motions.

He follows his mentor into the room. Ziva looks up at them. He avoids eye contact with her. He sinks into a chair. She locks onto him, waiting for him to say something. She swallows hard, and forces herself to ask the question she doesn't want the answer to.

"What's wrong?" she inquires.

"Everything," Tony answers solemnly, staring at the tiles on the floor.

"What do you mean everything?" she raises an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry."

"No," she shakes her head, "Don't tell me that you're sorry. I don't want to hear that you're sorry. Not now, not here."

"Ziva, I don't know what else to say," he admits

"I need you to tell me what happened."

"They did everything that they could, but..."

"But what?"

"They couldn't save him," he replies, unable to look her in the eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"We lost him," he reveals.

"No," she shakes her head in disbelief. The tears start to well up in her eyes.

"I wish that it wasn't true."

"Can you... I can't look at you right now," she tells him.

Tony nods, and leaves the room. Gibbs scoots closer to her. He squeezes her hand.

"Let it out," he tells her.

"This is my fault. I should have listened. I did this. He's never going to forgive me. I'm never going to forgive me. How could I have been so stupid?"

"Stop. You didn't do this. It's not your fault."

"Yes it is. I didn't listen. I never listen."

"I know this is hard. I know what it's like to lose a child."

"I just want to go home. I want to go home, and pretend that none of this ever happened."

"But you can't. You can't. Ziva, you still have a daughter. She needs you."

"She doesn't need me. No one needs you."

"That's not true. Tony needs you too."

"He hates me. He's going to hate me, because this was my fault."

"No. He won't."

"What if he does?"

"He won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because he loves you too much."

"I don't know about that, anymore."

"Don't let this tear you apart. I know that it hurts. It's terrible, and it's going to take a lot to get over. You're going to need him. Don't push him away. You're going to need each other. You still have a daughter who is depending on you. On the both of you."

"I know, but..."

"I'm going to go get him."

"No, I..."

"Ziva, the two of you chose to go down this road, together. You have a child together, and your commitment to her, is greater than anything else. You need to talk to him. You need to talk to each other."

"Why? Why does it matter?"

"Because that little girl needs you. She needs the both of you."

"I don't know if I want to do this, anymore."

"Do what?"

"Pretend that I can be normal. Pretend that I am good enough to be someone's wife, or mother. I'm not. I have never been."

"It's too late to make that decision, now."

"Says who?"

"Your daughter."

"I just want to leave. Please, help me get all of this stuff off of me, so I can go."

"No. Ziva I can't do that."

"I cannot do this," she stares at her feet.

He places his fingers under her chin. The tears roll down her cheeks, onto his fingers. He tilts her head up. She looks at him, through a wall of tears.

"You have said that before, and you were wrong then, too."

"I..."

He squeezes her hand, and then turns, and leaves the room. A few minutes later she hears footsteps coming down the hall, towards her room. She looks up, as the door opens. A familiar figure enters the room. He moves towards her.

"What are you doing here?" she questions.

"I saw Tony in the cafeteria."

"He was worried about me?" she guesses.

"Yes, my dear, as am I."

"Ducky, I..."

He takes a seat, in the chair, next to her.

"I know that you don't want me to be here right now. I know that you don't want anyone to be here, right now, but that is what you need. You don't know it yet, but you do. In times of tragedy, when we want to be alone, so that we can be consumed by grief, we need people in our lives. We need someone to stand by our side, or hold our hand, so that we do not get overcome by grief, and a sense of loss."

"You'll stay?" she wonders.

"As long as you will allow."

"I did everything that I wasn't supposed to do, Ducky. I did this. I caused this."

"You had no control over this, my dear. Sometimes in life, things happen, that have the potential to break us down. We have to choose not to be broken, but to grow stronger, and move on."

"How do I move on?"

"One day at a time."

"I never even got to hold him," she admits.

"Would you like to?" he inquires.

She stares at him in confusion, and disbelief.

"Sometimes, it can help. It gives closure," Ducky reveals.

"I..."

"I can have the nurse bring him to you, if you'd like. Is that what you want? I think that it would be a good idea. It will give you the chance to say goodbye. What do you think?"


	32. Nothing To Lose

3 days later: She rolls over, in bed. She finds that the other side of the bed is empty. She sits up, and looks around the room. The clock tells her that she's been napping for over two hours. She stares at the curtain, which is blocking the sunlight, from coming in the window. She stretches, and flips on the light. After flipping on the lamp she finds a note, from her partner.

_Z,_

_Went to the hospital to check on the baby. I'll be back soon._

_Love,_

_Tony._

She remains in bed, thoughts race through her head. Finally, she gets to be at home, and she's alone. She climbs out of bed, and wonders down the hall. She steps into a room full of chaos. There are boxes, and bags, everywhere. The only thing that is finished is a crib, that sits against the far wall. She carefully maneuvers around everything. She stops, when she reaches the crib. She stares inside. She finds pink blankets. After everything, she is finally home, and completely alone. No Tony, no baby. One baby in the hospital, the other never to come home. She fights the urge to cry. She notices the pieces of another crib, in the corner of the room. A matching crib, with a pile of blue things sitting next to it. A crib set, neatly returned to its package. Clothes, with tags still on them. A tiny baseball cap.

She takes another look around the room, and sinks onto the floor, in front of her daughter's crib. She blames herself for all of this. The tears roll down her cheeks. She doesn't move for nearly an hour. Eventually she cries herself back to sleep.

He walks through the door, with a smile on his face. Thoughts of his newborn daughter, still fresh in his mind. He moves towards the kitchen. He places the camera on the counter. He studies his favorite picture one last time, and then turns it off. So far, this had been a bumpy ride, but there is one thing that he is sure of, well two. One he loves his little girl. And, two, he loves being a father. Which, seems weird, because for awhile he felt a sense of dread about it.

He walks towards the master bedroom, expecting to find Ziva. He pokes his head in, and finds the bed empty. He moves through the bedroom, into the bathroom. He flips on the light, and quickly realizes that she isn't there. He heads back into the living room, thinking that maybe he has missed her. He checks the couch, but she isn't there. He moves with dread, towards the only remaining room. He finds the door to the nursery open. He notices the light on. He looks towards the crib. He pushes boxes out of the way, as he approaches the crib.

He stops, when he finds her, asleep, in front of the crib. She lies on her side, as if she's just simply fallen over, and refused to sit back up. He squats, and gently touches her.

"Ziva," he whispers.

"What?" she growls.

"I'm home."

"Ok."

"Hey, wake up, and talk to me."

"I do not want to talk to you."

"Ziva, wake up," he insists.

She opens her eyes, and sits up. She looks at him.

"You need to eat something," he tells her.

"I'm not hungry," she argues.

"You still have to eat."

"No. I do not. Tony, I would appreciate it, if you would stop treating me like a child."

"I'm sorry."

"Do not say that you are sorry. If you tell me that you are sorry, one more time I am going to murder you."

"Please, talk to me."

"About what? What is there to talk about."

"A lot."

"I do not want to talk to you."

"What did I do? Tell me what I did, and I will fix this. I just want to make you happy."

"That is not going to happen."

"Ziva, please."

"Why won't you listen to me? I am not ready to talk to you, or to anyone, ok?"

"Fine, you should go find something to eat."

"Why?"

"Because I want to get this room cleaned up."

"No. Just stop. I need you to stop. Stop trying to pretend like nothing bad ever happened. Stop pretending like returning his stuff will make it better. It is not going to make it go away. It is not going to change what happened."

"No, but we have to move on."

"Move on? And how do you suggest that we do that? We lost a child. You act as if you lost a pair of socks in the dryer."

"What are you saying?"

"You aren't dealing with reality."

"Yes I am."

"No, you're not," she argues.

"I cannot allow myself to consumed by grief. I am grieving, too. I lost a child too."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"I am trying to remain grounded in reality. Yes, we lost a child. Yes, it is terrible. Yes, it hurts. Yes, I am grieving too. But, no I am not going to let it ruin everything that I, that we have worked for. We still have a daughter. We have a daughter, who needs us. Maybe you're not ready to be there for her, but someone has to be. I have to be. I love her even if..." he stops, before he goes too far.

"Even if, what?"

"Nothing."

"Say it!" she demands.

He swallows hard, "Even, if you can't."

"Even if I can't? What kind of thing is that to say? I am her mother."

"Then start acting like it."

"Why are you being so terrible?"

"You can't lock yourself in this room, and be sad for the rest of her life. She needs you. You need to grieve his loss, and move on."

"And move on? It is not that easy, it is not that simple. Believe me, I wish that it were. I do not know why you think that I..."

"You don't go to see her. You don't want to. You don't want to hold her, or..."

"I don't go to see her? I just got out of the hospital this morning. And, you left without telling me."

"You would have gone?"

"No."

"Exactly. I understand how much it hurts, I do, I lost him, too. We still have a daughter, and she needs us, she needs you. I don't understand why you want nothing to do with her."

Ziva purses her lips, in anger, "There are a lot of things that you will never understand."

"Ziva if you tell me what I am doing wrong, then I will fix it. Why are you so angry at me?"

"You said yes," she answers.


	33. Forward

He walks into the squad room. It's nearly midnight. He sips his cup of coffee. He stops, when he reaches an occupied desk. He shakes his head, and looks at the person sitting behind the desk. He cocks his head, and asks, "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"You should be at home."

"I don't want to be at home."

"Why not?"

"I..."

"You two had a fight?"

She nods, "It got pretty ugly."

"Why are you here?"

"I didn't know where else to go. I didn't know what to do."

"Go for a walk, calm down, and go back."

"I don't want to go back."

"You have to."

"Why?"

"Ziva, you made a choice, and now you have to live with it."

"I am so tired of everyone telling me what I have to do. I do not have to do anything. I just want..."

"You want to hear that someone understands? I do understand. I get it. You want to run away, and never look back. You want to pretend that none of this ever happened. You want to forget about all the bad, but you can't."

"Why not?"

"Because if you do, you'll always be running. You'll always be running, and you'll miss out on the good."

"What good? There is nothing good about any of this. For so long I did not want to admit to anyone, even myself that I wanted this. Now I have it, and I wish that I could take it all back."

"I know. I know that you do, but you can't. Ziva I lost a child too, but you still have a little girl. She needs you. Even if you can't stand to look at Tony right now, or talk to him, she needs you. She is never going to stop needing you."

"I..."

"You're scared? You're afraid that you won't be good enough."

"Yes," she nods, on the verge of tears.

"Why?"

She stares at him, in confusion. "What do you mean, why?"

"You are a good person."

"No..." she begins to argue.

"Yes you are. You are not the same person that you are when I met you. You are a good person, Ziva. You deserve a chance to be happy."

"When I left the hospital, I just kept thinking how she'd would be better off without me. Everyone would have been better off, if I weren't involved."

"That's not true."

"All of this is my fault. Every part of it is..."

"You are not to blame."

"Then who is?"

"No one."

"I..."

"Ziva, that is one of the hardest things to learn, to accept. Sometimes there is no one to blame."

"But yourself," she adds.

"No, sometimes there is no one to blame, not even yourself."

"I..."

"You feel like you are to blame, but you're not. You can't control everything, no matter how hard you try."

"I just want things to go back to the way that they were, before."

"When you and DiNozzo ignored the truth. When you were both miserable, but wouldn't admit it?"

"I just..."

"You can only forward."

"But I don't know how."

"Go home."

"I don't want to."

"Why not?"

"There is no one there."

"How did you get here?" he furrows his brows.

"I drove, how else would I get here."

"You're not supposed to be driving."

"I know."

"Come on, I'm taking you home."

"But..."

"Let's go," he insists.

After several minutes in the car Ziva realizes that Gibbs is not going towards the apartment. They pull up in front of the hospital. He parks the car, and insists that she get out. He follows her in. They ride the elevator together. When they make it to the NICU, they spot Tony, through the glass. Jethro knocks on the glass, and motions for him. He nods, and comes towards them. Gibbs turns, and looks at Ziva.

"Go see her, I'm going to talk to Tony for a minute."

"But..."

"Go," he insists.

She gowns up, and heads into the room. She passes Tony, on his way out. Tony leaves the NICU, and finds Gibbs waiting on him. Without warning Gibbs smacks the back of his head.

"What is your problem?"

"My problem? I don't have a problem. I'm here to see the baby."

"You left her at home, alone."

"She's an adult. I can't stay home, and babysit her every second of every day."

"Did you ask her, if she wanted to come?"

"She never does."

"Did you ask her why?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because she is the mother of your child. She needs your support."

"She doesn't want my support. I am trying to be a good father."

"She's not the only girl that needs you."

"Why do I have to try so hard to get through to someone, who doesn't care?"

"She does care. She needs you."

"No she doesn't."

"Maybe you should try harder, to be there for her, instead of being a complete jerk."

"I am being a jerk, by spending every spare moment I have, here, with my daughter?"


	34. Scars

The nurse watches, as Ziva stands in front of her baby daughter. She just stares at the baby. The nurse walks over to her.

"You can hold her, if you'd like."

"She's so tiny."

"She's getting bigger each day," the nurse adds, as she places the sleeping baby in her arms.

Ziva moves over to the rocking chair, and takes a seat. She sits, and stares at the sleeping baby. A tiny little girl, with dark hair, and no name. She looks up for a moment, towards the nurse. The nurse quickly notices her glance.

"Do you need something?"

"I thought that she was supposed to be on oxygen."

"We had her on oxygen for a while. Her oxygen saturation level is normal, and she is breathing well on her own. We took her off the oxygen yesterday. She's doing remarkably well."

Ziva looks down at her little girl. The baby sleeps like a rock. Ziva exhales, for what seems like the first time, in days.

"Hi my beautiful girl," she smiles.

The little girl's eyes pop wide open. She stares at Ziva. Ziva's lips curl into a smile.

"I didn't mean to wake you up."

Gibbs looks at Tony. He looks through the window at Ziva, and the baby, and then back to Tony.

"This is why you have to push her."

"I am so tired of fighting, and arguing with her."

"Then you never should have had a child with her. You're going to spend the rest of your life arguing with her."

"How can I make her want this, the way that I do?"

Gibbs smiles, a devilish little grin. "You can't. It's something that she has to want on her own."

"How do I make this work. I thought that this was going to be easy."

"Easy? Why would you think that parenthood is easy?"

He shrugs, "I don't know."

"It's a lot of hard work. Making a relationship is hard work, more than some people are willing to do."

"It's so much stress. I..."

"You have to talk to her. You have to be in her corner. The two of you have a long road ahead of you."

"I just want to go back to work. I want to pretend that none of this ever happened."

"And just abandon them?" Gibbs questions, pointing at the window.

Hours later Tony, and Ziva make it home. Ziva heads into the bathroom, for a shower. He follows her into the bathroom. He closes the lid on the toilet, and takes a seat.

"Ziva, can we talk?"

"Can it wait until I'm out of the shower?"

"No," he answers.

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what? Do you even know what you're sorry for?"

"I am sorry for being a complete jerk. I am sorry for not being in your corner. I didn't support you the way I should have. You needed me, and I wasn't there for you."

"I don't want to talk about this."

"That's too bad. We have to talk about this. We don't have a choice."

"Why are you pushing this?"

"Ziva, I know that you're hurting right now. I'm hurting too, but it doesn't change the facts. We have a daughter. She needs us, the both of us."

"Don't you think that I know that?"

"I know that neither one of us want her to grow up in the situations that we did. It's not fair to her. We have to make this work, for her."

"I don't know how to make this work."

"Neither do I."

Ziva turns off the shower. She sticks her head out the curtain.

"So how do we make it work?"

"Elbow grease, and a lot of hard work," he responds.

"Can I have my towel please?" she questions.

He stands up, and grabs the towel. He hands it to her.

"Since when did you become modest?"

"Since a doctor sliced into my abdominal wall, and ripped two human beings out from inside of me."

"Ziva, I was there," he reminds her.

"I would prefer for you not to look at it."

"Ziva it's ok."

"No," she argues, "It's not ok. Not to me."

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"It's my fault."

"It's not your fault," she argues.

"I am at least partially responsible."

"I am the one who disobeyed doctor's orders. I am the one who caused myself to have to have an emergency c-section. That is on me."

"Ziva, none of this is your fault.""Yes it is, and now I am going to have an ugly scar to look at for the rest of my life, because of it."

"It's not that bad."

"It's hideous. I am never going to look the same."

He shakes his head, "And that bothers you?"

"Yes, doesn't it bother you?"

"No," he shakes his head.

"Really?"

"I'm in love with you, not your body."

"That's easy to say, and hard to believe."

"I love every part of you."

"I don't. The scar is hideous."

"If it bothers you, then we'll have it fixed."

"Have it fixed? How?"

"I don't know. We can go see if a plastic surgeon can fix it."

"So it does bother you?"

"No, but if it bothers you that much, then we'll do something about it," he offers.


	35. Deal With It

Ziva sits at her desk, tapping her ink pen, on her desk. She stares at the empty desk, across the aisle way. McGee stops in front of her desk.

"Where did he go?"

"The hospital."

"Ziva?"

"Yes, McGee?" she looks up, making eye contact.

"Tell me, why did you decide to come back to work, so soon? I mean you only took three weeks."

"It is my way of dealing with things. I couldn't sit in an empty house, any longer. It was driving me crazy. It's funny, sometimes silence, is the most deafening sound that there is."

"Don't you wish you could be with her?"

"He is with her all day. I... this is the only thing that I can do, to survive. I am not good with emotions. From a very early age, I was taught that you work. No matter what is going on in your life, you work."

"You didn't want to go with him?"

"He can handle it."

"You don't..."

"He's coming here," she reveals.

"Oh. So are you going home, with them?"

"McGee, it is three o'clock. By the time we are able to pry her out of Abby's arms, it will be time to go home."

"I can't believe that you wouldn't let us see her."

"We did not want any of you to see her, hooked up to wires, looking sickly. She's fat, and pink now."

They hear the elevator doors open. They turn, and find Abby running towards them. She stops, when she reaches them, with a camera, in hand.

"Where is she? Are they here, yet?"

"No," Ziva shakes her head.

"I want to see her!" Abby shrieks.

"I assure you, she's worth the wait," Gibbs enter the room.

"You've seen her?"

"Yes," he nods.

"That isn't fair. why does he get to see her, but I don't?"

"You will get to see her," Ziva promises.

"She's six weeks old, and I haven't even been allowed to see a picture of her," Abby complains.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Are you at least going to tell us her name?"

"No," Ziva shakes her head.

They stare at her, while they wait, for Tony to arrive. After a few moments, they all begin staring, at the elevator. Gibbs looks at his watch, and then to his team.

"Don't the three of you have work to do?" He questions.

"Right, boss," McGee nods, scampering off to his computer.

Ziva takes a seat at her desk. She begins typing, furiously. Abby remains frozen. Gibbs moves towards her. She keeps her feet planted, and folds her arms across her chest. She looks him in the eyes.

"No," she shakes her head.

"You don't have work to do?"

"I do."

"Then why aren't you doing it?"

"I am not leaving here, until I see my goddaughter."

"Really?"

"You can't make me. I have waited a month, and a half to see her. I haven't seen her, or held or, and I am not going back to the lab until I get to."

"Really?"

She swallows hard, "Yes."

"Then, at least have a seat," he suggests.

"Fine," she nods, taking a step towards Tony's desk.

She takes a seat at his desk, and proceeds to put her feet on his desk. Gibbs furrows his brow, as he looks at her. He cocks his head, as he scrutinizes his favorite forensic scientist.

"What?" she raises an eyebrow.

"No dog collar?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"No chains?" he notes.

"Nope."

"No jewelry, of any sort?"

"No," Abby admits.

"You're wearing sneakers," he points to her black Chuck's.

"Yep."

"Why?"

"I don't want to wear anything that will hurt the baby."

He takes a step closer. He stares at her hair.

"Is your hair wet?" he inquires.

"It is," she nods.

"Why?" he takes another step closer, and inhales.

"Um..."

"You smell like soap," Gibbs adds.

"I know."

"Why?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Because I like soap," she tries to wriggle out of his line of questioning.

"Are those the clothes that you were wearing earlier?"

Ziva looks up from her computer, at this point, and looks at Abby, "No," Ziva reveals, returning her focus to her computer screen.

"Why did you change your clothes?"

"I had to," she admits.

"Why?"

"I took a shower," Abby answers.

"You took a shower?"

"In the decontamination shower," Abby confirms.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to get all the microorganisms off me, before she got here."

The elevator doors open. DiNozzo steps out, with a baby carrier, and a diaper bag. Abby jumps out of his seat, and runs towards him. She pulls the blanket off the carseat, before he can even make it to his desk. She begins unbuckling, before he can sit the carseat down.

"She's beautiful," Abby coos.

"Sit," DiNozzo answers.


	36. Happily Ever After

He's sound asleep when a tiny hand smacks him in the face. He opens his eyes, and finds his fourteen month old daughter sitting in bed with him. At the edge of the bed he sees his wife. The baby squeals when she sees his eyes open.

"Da-da!"

"Good morning pretty girl," he kisses her on the cheek. He pushes her thick dark hair out of her face. Her hazel eyes stare up at him.

"Time to get up," Ziva insists.

"Five more minutes," Tony argues.

"We have to go to work."

"I just need five more minutes with my girl."

"I'll be in the kitchen," she turns, and leaves the room.

After she leaves the room he lifts the fiery little girl onto his chest.

"Good morning Maia."

"Hi," she chirps.

She lays down on his chest, with her head pressed to his heart. He lies there in silence with her, for several moments. Finally he slides out of the bed, with her on his hip. He carries her into the kitchen, and places her on the floor. She toddles over to the stove, where Ziva is standing. She wraps her arms around Ziva's bare leg.

"Mama?"

Without a word Tony trades her places. Ziva lifts the little girl off the floor, and onto her arms. She kisses face, and moves towards the table. She straps the pajama clad baby into the high chair. The little one wears a pair of pink footy pajamas. Ziva pours a handful of cheerios onto the surface of the highchair tray.

"Thank you," the little girl smiles, as her chubby fingers reach for a cheerio.

"You're welcome. Can I have one?" Ziva asks.

Maia looks at the cheerio between her thumb, and forefinger. She smiles, and puts it into her mouth.

"I love you," Ziva reminds her.

"I love," Maia answers, adding another cheerio to her own mouth.

"Can I have some?" Tony asks.

"No," she smiles sweetly.

"Ziva I am telling you we shouldn't have taught her that word. She is already using it against us."

* * *

That night, he finds Ziva in the nursery, in the rocking chair. She rocks the sleepy baby, as she reads to her. She finishes the book, and she still hasn't noticed that he's in the doorway. She clings to the little girl. Maia snuggles into her shoulder. Ziva inhales the scent of baby wash, and baby lotion. Tony clears his throat to make his presence known. She looks up, as if to tell him she already knew that he was there. She rises from the rocking chair. He meets her at the crib. She kisses the baby's chubby cheeks, and hands her to Tony. The little girl rests against his shoulder, for a few moments. He pats her, and kisses her forehead. He lays her into the crib, and covers her with her blanket.

"Night Maia," he coos, as they head for the door.

Ziva turns out the light on their way out. She follows Tony into the bedroom. He crawls in bed with her. She flips on the lamp, and reaches for her book. He flips on his lamp, but instead of reaching for a book, he just stares at her. Her hair is longer than it has been in a while. She's wearing his t-shirt, and a pair of pajama pants. She looks tired, but happy. She turns, and looks at him.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"Because I can."

"It is creepy," she reminds him.

"I was just thinking, that's all."

"About what?"

"How beautiful you are."

"I see."

"And how happy I am. I was just thinking about how grateful I am to you."

She raises an eyebrow, "For what?"

"Making me the happiest man on the planet. You turned this bachelor into a happily married man, and you gave me the most incredible little girl."

"I didn't do all of that," she argues.

"You did all of the hard work."

She smirks, "That is true."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He smiles widely, "Yeah, but I love you more."

"I want to finish this book before bed."

"I'll just watch a movie, then," he reaches for the remote.

Her hand wraps around his wrist as he reaches over her. He stops, with his face centimeters from hers. He plants a kiss on her lips.

"Nice try," she tells him.

He leans back, and folds his arms across his chest.

"Don't pout," she warns.

"I am not pouting," he insists.

"You are."

"Do you remember when this was the last place we would have ever considered being at," he pauses to look over at the alarm clock, "nine o'clock on a Friday night?"

"Yes, it wasn't that long ago."

"But it seems like forever ago."

"Do you want to go do something? You can go do something, I don't care. You deserve that. You never ask to go anywhere. When was the last time you went to see a movie?"

"How old is Maia?" he responds.

"Take yourself to a movie."

"I am already showered, and..."

She furrows her brow, "You are the one who never wants to go anywhere. I tried to get you to go to dinner last weekend, just the two of us."

"Who would watch her?"

"I have a long list of people willing to watch her, for free."

"What if they..." he begins.

She rolls her eyes, and cuts him off, "You are more obsessive than I am."

"I just don't want anything to happen to her."

"Do you honestly think that Abby, or Gibbs are going to let anything happen to her?"

"No."

"Then next tomorrow night we are going to go out for dinner, and a movie."

"But..."

"We don't spend time together..."

He cuts her off, "We work together, every single day."

"Alone," she finishes.

"Why do we need to spend time alone without the baby?"

She gives him a devilish grin, "I thought that you wanted another baby."

His heart skips a beat, "I thought that you didn't."

"I changed my mind."


End file.
